My four-year old lost her best friend last week. Thankfully he was of the stuffed animal variety and not human, however as a bystander in the situation I watched her process grief and loss much in the same way I have myself processed the loss of loved ones, human ones, in the past.
Let me tell you about him. Elephant was a small, inexpensive, stuffed animal that she won from a claw machine at one of those chaotic birthday party places. But it was love at first sight. HE was HERS, he was the first thing she had ever won on her own, she was almost 3 years old at the time, and he made her feel loved. From the moment she took him out of the claw machine, she put him under her arm and there he stayed for the next year and a half. Elephant went on family vacations, to dentist appointments, out to dinner, to dance class, and most importantly to bed with her every night under her arm…right where he was meant to be.
Everyone who met my daughter met elephant too. The suggestion had certainly been made that I should be sure to go to Target and get a “back-up Elephant” in case he was one day lost. Had it only been that easy, I would explain he was an obscure claw machine prize, literally how could he be replaced? Sure enough last week on a road trip to visit family, Elephant was lost. We know he was at the hotel for bedtime on our last night, but after that his whereabouts are unknown. We searched our luggage, the car, called family we had visited, even begged the hotel staff to search the room we stayed in. There was an APB out on this guy and he was nowhere to be found.
As one night turned into two, and three, and then a week, my poor little one’s world turned dark. We tried having her pick out a new stuffed elephant, but he wasn’t comfortable to sleep with and not soft enough. I searched the internet like a detective. I used all of the research skills I learned in school and found nothing. I was willing to buy a bulk case of stuffed elephants if I needed to, but could not for the life of me find the right elephant, they were all just a little different. I was convinced this toy wasn’t even in production anymore, I’m guessing if you buy toys in bulk for claw machines it doesn’t really matter to you if the toys are consistently the same.
Anyway, I’ve digressed. Every night at bed my sweet baby would cry and ask questions about Elephant. The teary questions started with the basics, did you check my carseat? Did you check this, did you check that? Then as the days went by they evolved to, WHERE is Elephant if he’s not at the hotel, etc.? Is he ok? What is he doing without me to snuggle with? Who is taking care of him? And by the end of the first week, we started discussing what would happen if we never find him? Would he be ok? Would someone find him and love him? How will I sleep if I don’t have him? Will I ever have another best friend like him? The progression of her questions and realizations couldn’t help but remind me of my own when processing loss I’ve experienced. And in those moments with my grieving daughter, I realized that the process is truly the same, the stakes are very different, but the processing of grief and loss is the same for all of us.
So while I was able to recognize that this was a good life lesson, a chance to prepare us for the loss of a pet, and one day the inevitable loss of a human loved one, I couldn’t help but grieve with her and yes even shed a tear or two for Elephant myself. In that moment, my little one reminded me that grief and trauma really are in the eye of the beholder. We all feel grief, we all feel trauma, and while some of us may judge our grief as more or less than others, it doesn’t change it. Grief is grief and who are we to judge the experience of anyone else.
I challenge you to remember this the next time your child loses their toy, or pet, or has some sort of loss in their life that you or I may judge as “minimal”. If it is trauma and grief for your child, then it is trauma and grief, and how you teach them to deal with it will determine how they do so when the stakes are in fact higher.
Side note: After almost two weeks of my heart being ripped out every night with the cries of a 4-year old grieving, I returned to the chaotic birthday party place on a weekday morning with my wallet in hand on the off chance that machine was still there. If it was, and by some miracle those elephants were still inside, I wasn’t leaving that place without one! I walked in, bought a $30 play-card, and headed to the machine. Yes now in hindsight I realize I should’ve checked first to see if he was there before buying the card. BUT the machine was still there and no joke there was ONE last elephant inside on the top of the pile. I wish now that I would’ve taken a picture of the machine for this blog. After trying several times and realizing that the claw wasn’t actually closing and there was no way I’d ever get him out, I looked around for a manger. I briefly wondered to myself how much I was actually willing to offer this person, whobI could only assume would be a 20-something without kids, to let me buy that elephant. I spotted a woman at the prize counter and figured I might as well start with her. After telling her that I realized my story was crazy but I was going to tell it anyway, I went into the Life and Loss of Elephant. When I was done, she reached down grabbed a key, said “I have a little girl too, I get it, just don’t tell my boss”, went over to the machine opened it up, and handed me the elephant. WHAT?!?!? Seriously?!?!?! It was that easy?!?! Was this woman for real? I offered her money, I offered her what was left on my play-card, NOTHING she wouldn’t take a thing. She got it, she understood the grief my little one was going through, and in 2 minutes she helped her start to heal.
When my little one saw new Elephant, she just stared, I wasn’t sure if she was going to cry and be upset or squeal and love him forever. She immediately took the tag off of him, handed it to me, put him under her arm, and went back to what she was doing. All was right with the world. After a little bit, once she had processed his return, we talked about new Elephant and how he was most likely original Elephant’s brother. He would love her just the way the original one did, and surely already knew all about her. And while we still discuss original Elephant and his whereabouts on a daily basis, somehow being able to love again has made the hurt dissipate and the healing process begin.
And just in case you were wondering, new Elephant has been outfitted with a GPS tracking chip, the kind you use to prevent losing your keys, thanks to a Grandma with a lot of patience and some serious stuffed animal surgery skills!
By Katherine Biggs, MSCP