I am approaching 60, and I have a 10-year-old daughter. She is very bright, thankfully taking after her mum!
Recently, we noticed that she was struggling with her emotions. She was experiencing mood swings and tearful episodes, and we could not quite understand what was troubling her. With the help of a friend who is a child psychologist, we eventually discovered that she was frightened of losing us. The significant age gap between us, coupled with the fact that we are approaching 60, was clearly weighing on her mind.
We sought advice on how best to navigate the situation, and came to realise that honesty was the best approach. She is old enough to understand her circumstances and is clearly aware of the reality of our situation. However, I also wanted to comfort her by explaining that life is deathless, and that there is a place called heaven where we all go when our time here comes to an end.
I had to approach the subject very carefully. I was conscious of not wanting to influence her beliefs in any way, as I wanted her to discover the answers for herself as she grew older. Nevertheless, I felt I had to reassure her as best I could, hoping that she would develop an understanding of what lies beyond this life and perhaps be better prepared when the inevitable day comes for me to leave this world.
I was as subtle as possible, using simple language and concepts she could understand. I spent considerable time explaining things, starting with the very basics, and she seemed to be taking it all in. When I felt she understood life and what might follow, I told her that one day, when she was older, I would explain more about what I do.
Her response caught me completely off guard.
“I know what you do, Daddy. You help people, you talk with dead people.”
“Who told you? Did your mummy tell you?”
“No, I read about you after your TV interview. I read it on Google!”
In hindsight, I am glad I prepared her, to some extent, for the possibility of life after death. However, in doing so, I also inadvertently introduced her to another aspect of who I really am. I am not entirely sure whether this was a bad thing. In fact, I like to think it may be better for her to know sooner rather than later, while I am still here to answer any questions she might have.
For a while, I tried to shield her from this part of my life, but I have come to realise it is probably futile. She will inevitably discover it one way or another, whether through curiosity, conversations, or simply searching online.
Since then, I have changed my approach. I am more open with her and willing to explain things when she asks. At the same time, I make a point of reminding her that what I share reflects my own personal beliefs and experiences. One day, she will grow up and form her own opinions, and I want her to feel entirely free to do so.
Perhaps the most important thing I can give her is not a set of answers, but the freedom to find her own.
