VERY GOOD! VERY GOOD! YAY

JANE LINLEY-THOMAS AND JESS BASSON SHARE THOUGHTS ON COPING WITH LOSS

Recently, Jess got one of those phone calls that everyone dreads. A dear friend had been attacked by a shark in

Plettenberg Bay and died.

While there are many who knew Kimon Bisogno more intimately than Jess, and she leaves behind her close-knit family and community, the light that ‘Kiki’ shone was so bright that her death has impacted people far and wide, many whom had never even met her.

The day after she got the phone call, Jess lay crying on the bed. Her oldest son snuck into the room and asked what was wrong.

“I’m crying about Kiki, my boy,” replied Jess.

He looked surprised. “Again?”

Jess couldn’t help but laugh. It’s true – she had cried already. When the call came and the news broke, her boys had been with her. As complex and confusing as death is, processing it with our children brings certain simplicities to the fore.

Life is, as Jane and Jess always say, a beautiful mess. They simply come as a package deal. But how can we process loss with our children?

One afternoon shortly after Kiki’s death, Jess sat on the beach and created an altar. She gathered shells and shaped them into an infinity symbol – thinking of the way life ebbs and flows, and feeling grateful she had intersected with Kimon in both of their lifetimes. After she’d crafted a space with Kiki’s name on it, she invited her two boys to come and place something special on the altar.

“What’s an altar, mom?” asked one of them. “An altar is a place where we remember the goodness of God,” she replied. “And even though Kimon’s death is sad, there was so much good in her life that we got to share.” Then, they prayed for Kimon’s family.

Jess later told Jane about how the boys had enthusiastically and innocently engaged in this spontaneous moment, and Jane pointed out how Jess had turned to wellestablished practices to help us process grief.

Here are three practical ways to help our children (and ourselves!) navigate loss, whether it is of a person, a place or a pet. 1. Say the stories: While Jess’s boys had only met Kimon once or twice, Jess had shared her pain with them, and wanted to make sure there was more to their memory of Kiki than her death. Kimon was a social activist, a restaurateur, and also a laughter yoga instructor. She had a way of bringing people into a place of joy they didn’t know they could experience with her vivacious leadership and whole-hearted energy. Jess told the boys about how after every fit of laughter she led her audience through, Kimon would have them all exclaim her trademark saying … “Very good! Very good! YAY!”

After they had laid flowers and shells on the alter, they all chanted, “Very good! Very good! YAY!”, and Jess saw with delight that the boys would remember that story as well as the sadness about their mama’s friend.

2. Ritualise remembrance:

Jane has cultivated a beautiful practice of remembrance in her family for when someone who has died would have had a birthday. Their photo is placed on the dining-room table and decorated with flowers, sentimental items and special objects. The family then shares stories about the person. This practice gives us permission to remember the person, and teaches our children that loss is a part of life. There is no shame in loss, and remembering the person helps us normalise the reality of their presence and their absence.

3. Embrace the emotions:

Too often, our own pain causes us to compartmentalise and shut away uncomfortable emotions. But when we tell stories about the person, place or pet that we’ve lost, we keep the good things alive in our hearts. American author Brené Brown says we cannot selectively numb emotions, and when we numb the negative ones, we numb the positive ones, too.

Perhaps there is an opportunity to find the beauty in the mess with your family or friends through one of these practices. Kiki would tell you they are very, very good! (Yay!) *