Then He Turned to Stone

Shackelford Funeral Directors • October 21, 2015

Over thirteen years ago my sister-in-law’s father died after an extended illness. As I stood in line, waiting to speak with her and the rest of the family, his grandson—my nephew—spotted me.  Leaving his grandmother’s side, he came and took me by the hand, leading me to the head of the casket . . . and in front of all those people who were patiently waiting their turn.  He stood, solemnly looking at his grandfather, and then he began.

“He was sick for a long time and his body was tired.” His grandmother now stood beside him, absentmindedly nodding as he continued.  “The doctors tried but they just couldn’t make him better . . .” His grandmother continued to nod as she gazed at her husband “so he died . . . and then he turned to stone.”  At that point she quit nodding.

Years later, my grandsons came to visit me at work; we were all in bookkeeping when Wilson started toward the door. “Mona, can we go upstairs to that room?  That room that has all those little beds in it?  You know, those little beds that the dead people sleep in?”  Then, as we started out the door to go upstairs to the room with all the little beds, he turned to me and asked, quite innocently, “Mona, when are you going to be dead?”

Children are creative, inquisitive little beings. They will ask you absolutely anything with no reservations whatsoever, and if you do not directly answer their questions, they will make up their own.  And sometimes, they’ll make up their own even when you do answer their questions.  That’s how dead people turn to stone.

Little ones learn how to be human beings by watching us. They learn how to interact with others, how to respond in different situations, when to be cautious and when to throw caution to the wind.  And if we are not careful, we will teach them to fear that which is inevitable in this life.

Talk honestly with a child about death. You don’t have to give them every gory detail of someone’s demise, but you don’t have to sugar coat it, either.  Children are stronger than we give them credit for being and smarter than we often realize.  They see and hear far more than we might want them to, and to gloss over the loss of an important someone in their lives when we are deeply distressed is an open invitation to anxiety and mistrust on their part.  Despite our best efforts at hiding the truth, children will see right through us.

So when someone in your child’s life takes a permanent leave of absence, please don’t assume that your child is better off not participating in the rituals of the visitation and funeral, if those rituals take place. By allowing them to be a part of the process they begin to understand that the process is natural.  It may not be pleasant and it may not be something we look forward to, but it is the natural order of things and an event we will all face numerous times before our own.  To deny children that knowledge and that experience also denies them the opportunity to understand why someone they loved is no longer with them.  And, as we have already pointed out, if they do not have the answers they seek, they will make up their own.

By Lisa Thomas September 11, 2025
The name they had chosen was filled with meaning, a combination of his father’s—Jon—and her father’s—Michael. Even before they knew what he was, they knew who he was.
By Lisa Thomas September 3, 2025
It was sometime in the 1960s or perhaps even the early 1970s. We could possibly even narrow it down a bit more than that . . . let’s say the mid-60s to early 70s. There had been a murder . . .
By Lisa Thomas August 27, 2025
“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”
By Lisa Thomas August 20, 2025
Carl Jeter had walked out on the deck of his house to survey the flood waters of the Guadalupe River—and to be certain the level was no longer rising.
By Lisa Thomas August 13, 2025
It was bedtime in the Guinn household and six-year-old Malcolm had decided tonight was the night to declare his independence.
By Lisa Thomas August 6, 2025
They had been married almost 25 years when Death suddenly took him. Twenty-five years of traveling around the country with his work. Twenty-five years of adventures and building their family and finally settling into a place they believed they could call their forever home.
By Lisa Thomas July 30, 2025
It was quietly hiding in the chaos that was once a well-organized, barn-shaped workshop/storage building, one now filled with all the things no one needed but with which they couldn’t bring themselves to part.
By Lisa Thomas July 23, 2025
Do you remember when new vehicles didn’t come with on-board navigation systems and if you wanted one you had to buy something like a Garmin or a Magellan or some other brand that would talk you through your trip?
By Lisa Thomas July 16, 2025
Recently I found myself playing a rousing game of “Chutes and Ladders” with my grandson and his mom (my daughter)—a game I soon realized I was destined to lose.
By Lisa Thomas July 10, 2025
Facebook is like the double-edged sword of social media. On the one hand, it can be the spreader of good news . . . But it also serves as the bearer of all that is bad.