How Parents Can Tenderly Talk To Kids About Someone They Love Dying

When TV presenter and health communicator Casey Beros learned her Dad was terminally ill, she moved her family across the country to become his carer. Casey’s new book, Next of Kin: What to Expect When You’re Expecting to Care for Someone You Love (Wiley $34.95, 27 August 2025), shares her personal story and provides a heartfelt and practical guide to navigating the complicated world of care. In this edited extract from the book, Casey recounts having to talk to her two young daughters about her father’s passing and how even well-intentioned explanations can have unintended interpretations.

I am at a beach bar in Vanuatu, watching a fire show where people dance, twirl and blow fire. My four-year-old has lost the plot, so she and I have escaped to the car to sit in relative safety. I assume she is overly tired being in a different timezone, and sugar-crashing after too much apple juice. Instead, she curls into my lap and sobs, saying only ‘Papa’ over and over again…

I hold her as grief wracks her tiny body, an experience she can’t understand let alone put words to. It is my strongest reminder yet that grief really is just love with no place to go.

Talking to kids about illness and death can be challenging, but there are a few things that can help:

Be honest and clear with simple, age-appropriate language

Use straightforward words: ‘Grandpa was very sick, and his body stopped working.’
Avoid euphemisms like ‘went to sleep’ – they can be confusing and scary.
If the illness is ongoing, explain it in simple terms: ‘Mum has an illness that makes her very tired, but the doctors are doing their best to help.’
Tailor the details to their age and maturity. Younger children may need concrete explanations, while older kids may have more complex concerns.

Follow their lead and encourage questions

Answer their questions honestly, but don’t overload them with information. They’ll ask for more if they want it.
Be prepared for repeated questions as they process the news in their own way.
Let them ask anything, even if it’s hard. If you don’t know the answer, it’s okay to say, ‘That’s a really good question. I don’t know, but we can find out together.’
If they ask tough questions (like ‘Are you/they going to die?’), you might reassure them by saying something like: ‘I’m doing my best to be here for a long time, and I’m taking really good care of myself.’

Validate and scaffold them

Let them know their feelings are valid: ‘It’s okay to feel sad, angry or not to feel sad sometimes.’ It’s okay to say if you’re sad or worried too – it shows them it’s okay for them to feel those things as well.
If the illness is affecting a parent or caregiver, remind them, ‘You are still loved and cared for.’
Keep routines as normal as possible – structure helps kids feel secure. If anything about their current routine is likely to change, tell them.

Let them express grief in their own way

Some might cry, others might play as if nothing has happened – let their way be their way, you don’t know what’s going on internally.
Offer creative outlets like drawing, writing or making a memory box.

Explain what to expect

If a loved one is sick, explain changes they may see, such as the person starting to look different, being attached to medical equipment or needing more rest.
If there’s a funeral or other ceremony, describe what will happen there and give them the choice to attend and participate.

Give them ways to stay connected

Talk about memories, look at pictures or create a ritual (like lighting a candle). The same daughter who was sobbing in Vanuatu recently lit three candles at dinner and —entirely unprompted —told me one was for my dad, one was for my mother-in-law, and one was for my precious dog (who she never met).
Encourage them to write letters or make drawings for their loved one to cheer them up.

Use books and stories

Books about illness and death can help children understand and open up about their own feelings.
Do some research: there might be cartoons on YouTube or shows on TV you can watch together.

Let them know they’re not alone

Share your own emotions in a way that’s appropriate: ‘I feel sad too, because I loved Grandma very much.’
Remind them they can talk to you whenever they need to.

When Dad died, my daughters were blissfully distracted by a Disney movie in the lounge room of Dad’s apartment. After he had taken his final breaths, they came into the bedroom where his body lay to give him a kiss.

My eldest went straight in for a hug, entirely unphased by his lifeless body and the crying adults around him. My youngest hung back, pulling on the edge of my tee shirt and motioning for me to crouch down so she could whisper something in my ear.

‘Mum, has Papa gone to the angels now?’ she asked, wide-eyed.

‘Yes sweetheart, he has,’ I tearily told her.

The ‘going to the angels’ narrative was a hangover from losing my mother-in-law years before, when my eldest was only two and my youngest was still in my belly.

‘But Mum, he’s RIGHT THERE…’ my youngest said, motioning with her forehead towards Dad’s body, careful and quiet so he wouldn’t notice.

I quickly realised I’d done her a disservice – the language I’d used had been taken at face value by my very young child. I’d said he was ‘going’ but she was correct – he was indeed right there.

‘Oh baby, his body is still there but his soul has gone to the angels,’ I tearily explained.

She nodded as though she understood, though how could she possibly understand. But she leapt into the unknown anyway, walking forward and climbing up so she could hug and kiss him one more time. He would’ve loved it.