When I was 8 years old my brother died, I begged my parents to let me go to the funeral. They let me attend, but they didn’t let me watch the coffin be lowered into the ground. Instead my uncle took me for an ice cream. I didn’t want ice cream, I wanted to be able to comfortably grieve for my brother in my own way. Ice cream didn’t help me do that. Children are resilient, but they don’t always need ice cream.