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I remember the day when I was a child that death hit home. My gramma (dad's side in Queens NY) was dying. It took her TWO years and for those 2 years, we regularly visited her bedside (cancer) and heard her cry and moan from the pain and beg us to shoot her! I was only about six when this vigil began for heaven's sake. When she finally passed, I distinctly remember being loaded into the family station wagon to go to the funeral and the wake. I was so terrified. I prayed in that car that we'd miss it. We got a flat and we missed the wake. I was SO glad. I didn't want to see a dead body. Going to the funeral at the last and to the graveside to throw dirt on her coffin was incredibly difficult emotionally.

After that, we'd had one of our cats die (which before didn't really provoke a lot of thought ... they went to heaven) but this time, my sister and I spent hours with the dead body of this cat, petting her, talking to her, asking her to appear as a ghost cat if she could (LOL what boobs) ... and nothing happened. My sister and I went to our local Catholic church during the week when it was quiet and drank the Holy Water thinking this would tell Jesus how much we loved Him and He would appear to us (gee we were goofy).

Since then, I've kept my strong feelings of God and how much He loves us but He just doesn't interfere. He doesn't treat us as puppets on His stage and the world is one of chaos. What happens to us happens to us and He'll give us the strength to get thru it, but He's not going to direct the show. I do believe that people recover from cancer or other, but I don't believe it's because they were so special to Him or prayed extra good or anything. Just more chaos. Just IMHO.

I think that children need to be introduced to death but not forced to view a dead person or attend a funeral that the parent should be sensitive to how the child can cope or wants to do.

I know my dad says he wishes he had not been forced to see his grandfather after he passed away as for many years after he could not remember him alive. He had to deal with that memory of him laid out and come to terms with it before he remembered him alive and things they did together.

My parents tried to protect me when my grandfather died and would not allow me to go to funeral. I felt I was old enough and wanted to go but somehow could not find the words to ask.

I think I inferred it a couple of times and it was obvious from the reaction I got that it was not an option and that I was too young to deal with it.

I have always wished though I went to the funeral.