As a thought experiment, I was asked how my daughter coped with loss. I believe the goal was to elicited ways that I might handle the tragic loss of my daughter.
My daughter was only eight when she passed. When her PBS Kids application on her iPad rotated off one of her favorite videos, she became her most upset. She would throw herself on the marble floor howling, “Why mommy, why?” for what felt like hours. Her descriptions of the videos never provided the correct keywords to find them on YouTube so were genuinely unavailable to her.
The first time this happened I tried to explain that other people liked seeing new videos on apps and that this was a common practice among streaming services. My analysis was not comforting.
As a result, I began to hold her and say, “I am so sorry. I know this is terrible.” I found myself saying the same thing to my daughter’s family members when they wept over her passing.
The exception was when her paternal grandmother repeatedly screamed out, "Why couldn't this have happened to me." Words failed me.
Since her passing when I would break down and cry in front of people, I would also apologize. What I was thinking was I am sorry that I am burdening you with my feelings. Those unaccustomed to the shame of crying in front of people thought I was apologizing for my daughter's malignant brain tumor. They would mimic my initial approach with my daughter's app frustrations and try to logically explain to me why my daughter's brain tumor was not my doing. I would respond by going somewhere more private to cry.