Learning to Fear

Shackelford Funeral Directors • February 10, 2016

For a period of time as I was growing up, I was forced to share a room with my brother who is three years younger. It wasn’t so terrible, but given the fact that we were not of the same gender, it was a situation that didn’t need to last forever.

My parents had been told they would never have children. Believing the medical professionals actually knew what they were talking about, the house they constructed only had two bedrooms—one for them and one for any guests who might be spending the night.  A year later, the first semi-permanent one arrived (that would be me) followed three years and two and one-half months later by my brother.  Unless one of us slept on the couch, we both had to be in the same room.

Being children, we were prone to playing at bedtime . . . and long after bedtime. Separation was not an option so my mother would come to the bedroom door and threaten us with dire consequences if we did not get quiet and go to sleep. Their bedroom was just down a short hall from ours and the den was next to the living room which was also just down the hall, so any commotion on our part was promptly heard on theirs.  Eventually, she found the optimal punishment for our untimely rowdiness—darkness.  She would come to the door and sternly tell us that, if we did not get quiet and go to sleep, she would turn out the lights and shut the door (the light in the hall stayed on so we could find the bathroom if needed, and the bedroom door usually stayed open).

And then she would demonstrate what absolute darkness actually looked like. And felt like.

I’m sure she never intended to warp me even though she was telling me being in the dark where I could not see my hand in front of my face was a terrible thing.  That was the lesson I learned—and then she did not understand later on why I feared it so.  It must not have affected my brother as drastically; if I remember correctly, when we finally moved into separate rooms, he preferred to be immersed in total darkness without the slightest speck of light.  I had to have a night light.  Actually, a night lamp.  I still do if I’m by myself for whatever reason.  I firmly believe those things that go bump in the night cannot get me if I see them first.

In their defense, there are a great many things in this world my parents never taught me to fear . . . spiders, snakes, storms (I learned that one on my own), driving really fast (the highway patrol taught me that one), commitment, hard work . . . and death. Whether or not we realize it, we do our children a great disservice when we teach them to fear those things that are inevitable and which we cannot change.  And remember, they learn more from our example than from our words.  So if your child wants to come to granny’s funeral, don’t tell them they shouldn’t, let them.  If they want to see her one more time, touch her hand or give her one last kiss, let them.   But give them the information they need so they will understand what they are going to see and feel, so there won’t be any unpleasant surprises that will teach them to fear the one event we will all experience at some point.  And if you aren’t sure what to say or how to prepare them, then talk to us.  There are materials available that can help you explain and help your child understand the events that transpire at the end of life.  After all, knowledge is the key to overcoming fear.  That, and a night light.

By Lisa Thomas October 8, 2025
Every December my daughter and I (and our special guest baker Tommy) gather for three very long days (plus usually one for gathering supplies) and we bake. And we bake and we bake and we bake.
By Lisa Thomas October 2, 2025
We’ve all heard the old saying “You can’t take it with you”, right? And we all know why old sayings get to be old sayings, right? (In case you don’t, it’s because there’s a grain of truth hidden in them . . .)
By Lisa Thomas September 24, 2025
It’s raining. A rare occurrence of late. And a welcome one. It’s done that off and on for the last few days, and you know what? The grass that once crunched under my feet is now soft and green again. And in need of mowing.
By Lisa Thomas September 17, 2025
It’s Fair Week in Hardin County, Tennessee! Just like it is or has been or will be in the near future for many counties around the south. And maybe the north. I’m just not sure how many of our southern traditions they embrace.
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.