Yesterday I was asked to do something that I’ve never been asked to do before.

A community member came to my job seeking grief support. Unfortunately, there’s not a lot of grief support for substance related loss. But I sat down with her and tried to help her as best as I could.

She explained to me that her grand-daughter died by overdose on Friday. It was Monday. I offered my condolences and waited for her to continue. She went to explain that she had custody of the daughter of her grand-daughter. A 6 year old little girl. And didn’t know how to explain to her that her mother was dead. She asked for my help. She asked if I would tell her.

I agreed and didn’t think much of it… Well, that’s a lie. I went and got some resources for her - picture books for the little girl that explained death like “Someone I loved died today.” and books for her. I also printed out a few resources for myself on how to explain to a child that their parent died by an overdose.

I collected a few pieces of information from her. She said that she would talk to her family, and then call me back either that day or the next and arrange for me to come out to their home to share the news. I agreed.

The community member ended up calling me back several hours later and asked me to come by on Tuesday at 5 PM. I agreed again.

30 minutes before the appointment, at 4:30 PM today - I called the grandmother and told her that it was important that we both agreed on the messaging. I gave her several different options of how I could explain the loss to the little girl. We agreed on not using the words “overdose” or talking about drug usage like “fentanyl” or “cocaine”. As the family was worried about the little girl telling people at school, or friends or people in the community. I agreed and we settled on language that everyone felt comfortable with.

I arrived early to her house at 4:55 PM. The family was standing outside waiting for me. There was a great grandmother, grandmother, an aunt, and three cousins. I introduced myself to everyone. They asked me to take off my shoes. I cursed myself for not wearing socks, but did as they said.

We all sat in the living room together - they had me in the nice armchair. I tried to engage the little girl. Asking what her name was, asking about her toy. She must of sensed the tension in the room, because immediately tried to leave once everyone was seated.

I kept thinking, she knows. God, she knows. She must feel it.

When we got her back in the room. Her grandmother kept an arm around her as I said the following:

“Hi, my name is Olivia and I’m a social worker for the ———. Do you know what a social worker does?”

She shook her head.

“I told her that I’m the kind of social worker who works with families after they’ve lost a loved one to death. I contact the families and provide support to them.” I then went on to explain what support looks like for my role.

“I’m here to share with your family and you that your mother has died.”

She started sobbing immediately.

Sobbing and sobbing and sobbing. She tried to run away, but her grandmother wrapped her in her arms tightly. And just held her. Another family member got up and also wrapped their arms around her. And she cried and cried and cried. It was so awful. The adults in the room also were crying.

When the little girl stopped sobbing, but remained crying, I asked her. “Do you understand what I mean when I say your mother has died?”

She didn’t answer. And then her grandmother asked the question again for me. And the little girl nodded.

I then went on to explain” “Your mom had been sick for awhile in her brain. And with this sickness, sometimes you get better and sometimes you don’t. And unfortunately, your mother was not able to get better. And because of this, she died.”

I asked her if she had any questions for me. She shook her head no. But the entire time, she was just staring at me with these big wet eyes, like I held all of the answers. Hanging off every word I said.

I told her. “It’s ok that you don’t have any questions right now. If you find that you have questions an hour from now, or tomorrow or the next day - all of the people in this room will be available to answer any questions you may have later.”

I went on to tell her that for the next three months or longer, she may find herself crying more often than not, that she could be happy one minute and sad another. I explained that sometimes she may find herself crying and not know why. I told her that all of this is normal after you lose someone very special.

I told her that she never has to feel alone because she has all of the love and support of her family in this room, and if she’s ever feeling sad, that she can tell one of them and they’ll give her a hug, or just sit and listen to her.

I gave her the two pictures books for grieving children. I explained how helpful they were for my little niece, when she was 4 and she lost her baby sister.

And then I switched over and address the adults. They asked about grief counseling for the little girl. I told them about a few places that focused on grief support and I told them that I would follow up with them on Monday or Tuesday, to report back on the resources but also to check back in.

I stayed for about 20 minutes and then they thanked me and I left. I felt very numb afterwards. Kind of in shock. I’m starting to feel it all now at 8 PM. It’s all hitting me.

I keep thinking about the little girl and her big eyes focused on me. I keep thinking, if she remembers me 10 years from now, she’ll remember me as the woman that gave her the worst news of her life.

Afterwards I called my mom. She told me to come over. My nieces and nephew were there. She fed me pizza and we talked. My niece, whose 7, then asked me if I could get her ears pierced and then we went off to Claire’s to get her ears pierced with the permission of her parents.

Olivia