Wouldn't it be wonderful to be as carefree about grief and sadness as little kids are? Until they get to a certain age they don't quite understand the sort of pain and sadness associated with losing someone special.
Grief has been in the news a lot over the last few
weeks because of little Aisling Symes' tragic death. Aisling was only a little older than my girl Mia and I can't imagine what her parents and family are going through, especially today - the day of her funeral.
I took Mia to her first funeral this week. Sadly my great aunt Beryl passed away. She was a lovely lady. Loud, but lovely, and she would do anything for anybody. She also made the best shortbread around.
I'm not making a comparison between Aisling and Beryl. Beryl's funeral - though sad - was a celebration of my great aunt's long and good life, whereas Aisling's service will be a time to remember a little girl whose life was cut far too short.
It's just that Beryl's service got me thinking about how little ones like Mia have this beautiful ability to lighten the heavy emotional load of these ceremonies.
Even before the funeral she must've known something odd was up because we flew to New Plymouth for the first time without her mum, who had to work. Although it's more likely Mia passed it off as just another adventure, and a chance to be spoilt by Nana and Poppa.
At the funeral she sat nicely for the first 20 minutes, crumpling the order of service and jabbering the occasional "Beryl" as she pointed to the photo of her; she was transfixed by the slide show of old photos, especially the ones of the ladies in those fancy hats they used to wear in the old days; and she waved and smiled at the old ladies across the aisle.
Because of their fun-loving innocence, little kids like Mia can ease the burden of loss, and make the sadness and grief go away with a beaming smile, a little wave, and if you're lucky, a cute, "Allo".
And it's those small things that make them that much more precious.
- Scott Kara
