Imagine that I am at a work-based social event. People are chatting and I am with a new team member who is making conversation with me a little nervously. Let's also say that my son died three years ago aged 16.
My new colleague
The new colleague is about my age and seems friendly, so I smile and respond warmly. They tell me that they just moved into the area and found a brilliant school for their two teenage children and begin to tell me how marvellously clever these two children are in great detail. I begin to feel uneasy and glance around seeking an easy escape but sadly none seems politely possible, so I carry on listening, showing an interest in these children and their option choices.
And then...wham! Here it comes:
"How many children do you have?"
My mind spins and I try to settle on the 'right' answer. The dilemma is - do I 'deny' the existence of my son or do I 'deny' his death or...do I drop the taboo and uncomfortable topic of his death on my unsuspecting colleague? The decision has to be taken swiftly and there are four main options.
Option One - the denial of my son's death
Me: "Two." This is risky - lets hope she goes back to talking about the A-levels.
Colleague:"Oh - OK. How old?" Shit. Now what do I do, say his age as she was or say his age as he would be now.?"
Me: "Ummm. 15 and 16" I've gone for the 'as was' option.
Colleague: "That's a small gap in age - poor you - all those nappies at once!" It wasn't - it was four years actually, but never mind.
Me: "Hmmmm yes." Wry smile.
Colleague: "So what are they doing for their GCSEs?" Fuck fuck fuck.
Me: "So sorry - I just remembered I have a call to make." Will I never learn?
Option Two - the denial of my son's existence
Me: "One" Ouch! I knew that would hurt, but at least I don't have to explain. I am sorry son.
Colleague: "Ah - an only child - how lovely - sometimes I wish we had stopped at one." WTF - no it isn't lovely actually.
Me: "Hmmmmm yes." Wry smile.
Option Three - the truth (well nearly)
Me: "One, but I did have two and my son died three years ago." Deep breath in.
Colleague: "Oh my God - how terrible for you. Was he ill?"
Me: "No." Shit shit shit. This isn't going well.
Colleague: "Oh - an accident then?" She ain't giving up.
Me:"Well ...kind of." I know I have copped out now - why didn't I just say, "One" or "Two" and leave it at that.
Colleague: "Oh how terrible!" she looks stricken and tearful.
Me: "I am so sorry." Yes - that's me apologising to her for upsetting her by telling her about my son. Thank fuck I didn't say how.
Option Four - the stark truth.
Me: "One but I did have two and my son died three years ago." Deep breath in. Colleague: "Oh my God - how terrible for you. Do you mind if I ask how he died?" Slow breath out.
Me: "No. It's fine. He............" And I say it. Of course it isn't fine - what I mean is that it's fine to ask and I can say it. I then hope that the response from this person will be empathic. If it isn't I will wish I had lied. If it is, maybe we can become friends.
For most people this is the simplest question in the world. For a bereaved parent it is one of the trickiest. It's also one of the reasons why life can be so exhausting for bereaved parents.
What I have learned
When answering the question, "How many children do you have?", I have learned to take into account the following:
Will this person find out if I lie and do I care?
How empathic does this person seem to be. I've become pretty good at working this one out!
Do I want to get to know this person properly, in which case they should know what I am carrying?
Might I touch on something very painful for them that they are not ready to speak about today?
Do I want to say it, today?
Will I be ok if I tell them and then they forget what I have said by the following day? (Yes, this has happened.)
I have learned to do what feels right for me to do, this particular day with that particular person.
Do leave a comment and let me know how it is for you when you are asked how many children you have —and how you cope with answering that question.