Category Archives: Human Capital

The Most Beautiful Man In The World – Talking To Kids About Dying

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Orion

Did you know that Orion was the most beautiful man in the world? Here’s a link to his story – a personal favorite of mine.

How can I talk about death without freaking out my kids? First up, I don’t start the conversation. However, I don’t avoid it either.

There is a split between older (4-6 years old) and younger preschoolers (2-3 years old) and my approach differs between the kids, as well as how they are feeling when they bring up mortality.

My first conversation about death with my son (2.75 years old) started when he picked up a line that stuck in his head, “David’s Daddy Died.” At two, death doesn’t have meaning and I don’t want him to get locked onto thinking that mom/dad might disappear on him.

From an early age, we’ve taught him that “we will be coming back” when we leave him. Indeed, a key milestone of childhood development is the ability to self-comfort when separate from our parents for 1, 3, 5 and 7 hours. We started this process, gradually, with all our kids as soon as possible.

Axel’s nature means that he experiences less separation anxiety than our other kids. Still, he looked to me for an explanation about “David’s Daddy Died.” Here’s what I do each time…

  • I go down on one knee
  • I look him in the eyes
  • I open my arms for a hug
  • I say, “YOUR Daddy’s right here”
  • I give him a huge hug

Sometimes it takes a couple repeats of… “Your Daddy’s right here” but it always works to bring him to the present, give him reassurance and shift us back to whatever we were doing.

With a 4-6 year old, the conversation is different. My oldest understands death and can have questions about it. She remembers her great-grandmother (who died on this day one year ago) and has asked me about it.

  • What’s death – your body stops working
  • Is she coming back – no, her body is finished
  • Is it like sleeping – no, it’s different
  • Daddy, are you going to die – Sweetie, everything ends
  • How long until you die – likely more than 40 years

And the biggie… Daddy, where will you be when you die?

  • Once again, I look her in the eyes
  • Put my hand over her heart
  • And say, “I will always be with you. Even when I’m not with you, just close your eyes and you will feel me in your heart.”

I then choose a person – perhaps my grandmother, or her mother – and we both put our hands on our hearts and think about that person. “See you can feel the person, even when they aren’t in the room. That’s where you go.”

When they get a little older, I’ll teach them how to spot Orion in the sky and share that he was the most beautiful man in the world.

When they see Orion, I’ll tell them to always remember that I love them.

See me beautiful.

Your Son Thinks You’re Superman

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Some observations I picked up from watching five male generations interact within my own family.

You Are Superman – all reality is relative and, at least in a preschooler’s world, adults are endowed with super powers. We make food appear, we are HUGE, we can lift heavy objects with ease and we hold sway over every aspect of our young children’s lives.

When I admit that my son thinks that I’m Superman, certain positive outcomes flow.

  • I’m more patient with him
  • I can see how shattering it is when I don’t have time for him
  • I treat him better

In making a habit of treating one person better (because, well, I’m Superman), I create a habit that helps me treat everyone better.

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What happens when we look up the family tree?

Part of becoming an adult is creating an identity separate from our parents. The teenage years are all about the push-pull of this transformation. If you’re struggling with your teenagers then I’d encourage you to remember that somewhere in their psyche, you are still Superman!

The bizarre anger and rejection that we see in our families. The behavior makes more sense if you remember that your kids are trying to cope with the impossible task of defining themselves separate from the most powerful people they have ever known (their parents).

Some of us never let go of this habit of pushing away.

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Just like the Easter Bunny and Santa, at some stage, my kids are going to figure out that I’m not Superman.

But somewhere in their psyche, there will always be a seed that says otherwise.

Drinking 1-2-4

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When I was sixteen my grandfather took me out to dinner and offered two pieces of advice:

  • Use French condoms
  • Your great grandfather was an alcoholic, be careful with the booze

I went 0-for-2.

I managed to avoid disaster, mostly.

In my 40s, I came across a much better system for managing alcohol. 1-2-4.

If you limit yourself to

  • one drink per hour
  • two drinks per day
  • four drinks per week

…then you’ll avoid most people’s problems with alcohol.

I’ve been using this system and it works great (for a guy that enjoys concrete rules).

I arrived at University at 17 and was soon drinking a lot. Even as a young man, it was clear to me that there were rapidly diminishing rewards per drink (and per sip). For me, nothing tastes as great as the first pull off a bottle of Sierra Nevada. Each sip that follows… a little less great.

Also, by avoiding hitting three drinks, I never get to the point where I don’t care:

  • about what I say
  • about what I do
  • about the next drink
  • about the next day
  • about what I eat

…so the cascade of alcohol-related errors never gets a chance to start.

1-2-4 means that I have a minimum of three days per week without a drink. I tend to end up with four or five days off. Given my addictive personality, the days without alcohol are more important than avoiding excess on the days with alcohol.

I’m a fatigue addict so there are parallels with exercise.

I don’t have the courage to try 1-2-4 with coffee!

If you smoke weed then you can substitute “share a bowl” for “drink.” You don’t get a second allocation to mix in!

If something happens to me then please teach 1-2-4 to my kids.

I’ll leave the bit about the French condoms to your discretion.