The Death Talk Every Parent Avoids: How to Do It Right

25/06/2025

It was a Sunday morning when my 6-year-old son, Nikos, climbed into our bed holding his late grandfather's dead canary. "Dad," he asked with tears in his eyes, "why did Yellow die? Will you die too?"
I froze. My stomach tightened. My wife looked at me, waiting for me to say something—anything. But I, a 40-year-old man who's faced tough situations at work and in life, couldn't find the words.
Why? Because I fear death too. And how can you explain something you don't fully understand yourself?

The Silence That Hurts More Than the Truth

In that moment, I decided to do something I'd never done before: talk to my son about death without trying to "protect" him from the truth.
Research shows that children who grow up without discussing death develop more anxiety and fear than those who talk openly about it with their parents. But how do we do this when we freeze up ourselves?

The First Talk

I sat on the bed and pulled Nikos into my arms. "You know what?" I said. "I'm scared of death too. And it's okay to fear something we don't understand."
His eyes widened. He wasn't expecting that.
"But you know what I learned?" I continued. "Death is like… the end of a story. Some stories are short, like Yellow's. Others are long, like Grandpa's. But all the good they did, all the love they gave, stays with us forever."

The 5 Things I Learned from This Talk:

  1. Don't Lie
    I didn't say "Yellow is sleeping" or "He went on a trip." Kids understand more than we think, and lies confuse them more.
  2. It's Okay Not to Know
    "I don't know what happens after death" is an honest answer. Kids need authenticity, not fake certainty.
  3. Your Fear Is Normal
    When I admitted my own fear, Nikos felt he wasn't alone. We shared something human.
  4. Use Simple Images
    Kids grasp things through stories and examples. The "story ending" metaphor helped him more than a psychological analysis.
  5. Leave Room for Questions
    I didn't try to say everything in one talk. I told him, "Whenever you want to talk about this, I'm here."

The Questions That Will Come (and How to Handle Them)

Over the next few weeks, Nikos bombarded me with questions that made me sweat:

  • "When will I die?"
    Answer: "I hope you live many, many years. Most people die when they're very old. But we can't know for sure, so we should make every day special."
  • "Will you remember me when I die?"
    Answer: "Every moment I spend with you becomes part of me. Even if we weren't together, I'd remember you every day."
  • "Where do people go when they die?"
    Answer: "No one knows for sure. Some believe in heaven, others in different things. I believe the love we give stays in the world forever."

The Talk That Changed Our Relationship

Something magical happened over those weeks. Nikos started opening up about other fears—nightmares, school, whether he'll get married.
Because he saw me admit my vulnerability, he learned he could be vulnerable with me too.

When Is the Right Time?

There's no "perfect" age. Kids start grasping death from 3-4 years old. The key is to follow their questions.
Signs your child is thinking about death:

  • Asks about dead animals
  • Plays "death" games with toys
  • Wonders why people age
  • Expresses fear about you dying

The Mistakes I Made (and How to Avoid Them)

  • Mistake #1: Tried to "Distract" Him
    I thought jokes or playtime would make him forget. Instead, it made him feel his emotions weren't important.
  • Mistake #2: Used Religious Explanations I Didn't Believe
    Though I'm not religious, I tried comforting him with talk of heaven. Kids sense when we're not genuine.
  • Mistake #3: Thought One Talk Was Enough
    Death isn't a one-time topic. It's a process that evolves as a child grows.

Ages and What They Understand

  • 3-5 years: See death as temporary and reversible. Ask "When will Grandpa come back?"
  • 6-8 years: Understand death is permanent but think it only happens to others.
  • 9-12 years: Realize death is part of life and can happen to anyone.
  • Teens: Reflect on life's meaning and death, often with existential anxiety.

The Hardest Question: "Will You Die?"

This is the one we dread most. Here's how I handled it:
"Yes, one day I will die. Everyone does. But I plan to live a long time to see you grow up, get married, maybe have kids of your own. And even if I'm not here, everything I taught you and all the love I gave you will be inside you."
He cried. But then he hugged me and said, "I love you so much, Dad."

How to Talk When Real Death Happens

When his grandpa died last year, we were prepared. Nikos already understood the basics.
What we did right:

  • Let him see Grandpa in the hospital before he passed
  • Explained what would happen at the funeral
  • Allowed him to cry as much as he needed
  • Gave him time to say goodbye
  • Kept talking about Grandpa with love

Phrases That Hurt

Never say:

  • "Grandpa became a star"
  • "God needed him more"
  • "He's sleeping forever"
  • "It's not time to be sad"
  • "You need to be strong for Mom"
    Say instead:
  • "He died because his body stopped working"
  • "It's normal to feel sad"
  • "We can cry together"
  • "We'll remember him with love"

The Gift I Didn't Expect

The greatest gain from these talks wasn't that Nikos learned about death. It was that I started fearing it less.
Talking to my son showed me death isn't the opposite of life—it's part of it. Instead of living in fear, I began cherishing every moment with him.

Questions I Keep Asking Myself

Every night when I tuck him in, I think:

  • If something happens to me tomorrow, will he have what he needs to be strong?
  • Have I shown him enough how to love?
  • Have I taught him to face challenges?
  • Will he remember me with a smile?
    These questions make me a better dad every day.

The End Is Actually a Beginning

The death talk never ends. It evolves. And oddly, discussing life's end taught us to value it more.
Last week, Nikos said, "Dad, when I'm grown up and have kids, I'll talk to them about death like you did with me."
That's when I knew we did something right. I didn't just give him answers—I gave him tools to face fear and uncertainty, tools he'll pass to his own family.
And maybe that's the most beautiful way to conquer death: not by avoiding it, but by teaching our kids to live fully despite it.

At DaddyLife.gr, we believe the hardest conversations are often the most important. If you've faced similar challenges or want to share your experience, leave a comment. Together, we're making parenthood a little easier.