How My Aunt’s Death Taught Me Empathy As A Kid
Tags: Compassion, Kindness, Empathy, Death, Love

How My Aunt’s Death Taught Me Empathy As A Kid

I was still in kindergarten when my aunt died. She was around a lot while I was younger. At one point she was my main guardian while my mother was at work. There were moments when she wasn’t very nice and thus as a kid I remember how I was afraid of her.

My aunt was diagnosed with cancer and I didn’t know how long it took until the disease overcame her. It may have been years. At one point she started to lose her hair and they shaved it off her entire head. I had thought maybe she was trying to become a monk. Of course, they didn’t tell me what was wrong with her.

Then one day, she just disappeared. I was told that she was dead.

I knew what ‘dead’ means but I don’t remember being sad.

I never shed a single tear for her. We simply weren’t close.

My mother told me that she suspects my aunt of abusing me when I was a baby. The thing is I wouldn’t be too surprised if she did as I wasn’t very fond of her. However, that’s another story for another time.

Her funeral came and went and her three children were left alone for my grandparents to raise on their own.

At one point because of my mother’s place of work she left me with my grandparents and I got to spend a lot of time with my cousins especially the one closest to my age. He was just six months older than me.

My mother had a high-paying job thus she was able to afford a lot of new gadgets for me. Sometimes she would bring me snacks when she got home as well.

The life-changing incident came the day when my mother was at home and she asked me and my cousin to tidy up the lounge area. She said that she would award us with chips if we would finish cleaning up. She gave me the tube of chips before we were done and I started using it as an incentive to get my cousin to clean up for the both of us. I was essentially a slave master in the making. I know I sound terrible but keep reading I swear I’m a totally different person now.

I hadn’t taken his feelings into consideration at all and when my mother came out of her room to inspect us she made the observation and later that night she started to get me in perspective and I’ll forever remember that night. It’s the night that made me who I am today.

My mother had asked me how I think my cousin would feel having lost his mother. “He would be sad” I had replied to her. And she nodded. She also told me how he must be feeling vulnerable having no father or mother and she talked about how I commanded him to do the bidding for me when it was my responsibility to clean up as well.

I thought back at the memory of him bending over to pick the toys up right in front of me while I commanded him around as if he’s somehow lesser, not as valued, maybe even inferior.

I thought about how he must have felt like he has no choice. There was no one there to protect him. He has no one. He has no mother or father. Our grandparents were sometimes irritable and easily flustered. He was all alone in this world. He would see me being pampered by my mom with gifts and more importantly love while he watched on. He had nothing.

Behind his goofy smile was an indescribable and unimaginable pain.

Some people think a kindergartener couldn’t possibly be able to comprehend the death of their mother and thus their sorrows were maybe non-existent. If only they knew.

I immediately felt bad and from that point on I started to put myself in others’ shoes whenever possible.

The next day, as we were playing I apologized to him and he as always acted like it wasn’t a big deal and quickly brushed it off. We carried on playing and we were treating each other with much more respect.

I had no idea just how impactful that day was to my entire life until I looked back at it now as an adult.

The incident was a turning point for me, I would look at poor people on the street without a home and feel really bad for them and somewhere inside I made a promise to myself that I’d one day become rich and help those who need it.

My mother took really good care of me as I was growing up. I never lacked anything I needed. Although when it comes to what I want she doesn’t always reward me as she believed it would raise a spoiled child and I’m glad she stood her ground.

Growing up I noticed how I was more empathetic than most kids around me.

Side note: I’m not saying this to boast or to glorify myself but I’m saying this to indicate that the lesson I learned had a positive influence on my character as a child.

There were plenty of kids being picked on by all others in the class back in elementary school. I always took pity on them and never engaged in any bullying.

There was a girl, Amy who was being bullied in class and I had taken a chance to befriend her in an attempt to make her feel safer. I wanted her to know that she has someone and she’s not alone. She did feel better and safer but she later joined the popular kids to bully me. The popular kids gladly accepted her because I had refused to be one of them. It wasn’t serious bullying. They would close the door and tease me on the other side when I’m about to walk in for instance. I’m not mad at Amy anymore but at the time I was furious. It was one of the first moments when I realized being nice could get me in trouble.

However, my silent promise to myself that I would help the people in need if I have the power to was never forgotten although it did fade a bit after the incident with Amy and her gang. This is also one of the reasons why I want to be self-employed. The thought of working a 9–5 being locked up somewhere doing the same meaningless tasks scares me.

I want to make a difference in the world. I want to be a self-employed blogger so I could spend more time contributing goodness to the world. I want to help the people on the street who are homeless. Since the pandemic, there have been many more of them.

It’s less than five months until I finish my study at my university and I have a plan to travel downtown and hand out free food for the homeless at least once a week at my own expense.

(I have two brands I’m working on and hopefully, it is enough to make me a full-time income.)

I know my gesture might be small but it’ll mean a lot to them. In certain instances, it could literally mean the difference between life and death.

While my aunt’s death didn’t directly lead me to learn empathy as a kid I did glean something out of it thanks to my mother.

What my mother taught me that day was compassion. To think from another’s angle and to not be selfish.

Sometimes it’s hard to understand what others are going through but we can try and it may bring us closer to where they stood. We may start to see the world from their perspective and see all the hidden sorrows and pain. Through an alternate angle, I learned compassion.

We all need to be kinder to one another.

Compassion takes practice. Who we are in the past doesn’t determine who we will be in the future.

Everyone puts in some bad and some good to the world. It’s our job to make sure we maximize the good and minimize the bad. Every little action helps.

It may not take a lot out of you to be nice but to the person on the receiving end, it could mean a lot.

It must have been terrible going through with the loss of his mother and I’m glad I was quick to learn the mistake and perhaps I made the darkest time of his life easier to deal with as his best friend.