[UPDATE] HELP. Wife died. How to tell my 2yo Mummy is dead?

See original postSupport Links for those who go through something like this; * 1) Winston's Wish T:08088 020 021 * 2) Cruse T:0808 808 1677 * 3) The Widower's Toolbox: Repairing Your Life After Losing Your Spouse * 4) 'You'll Get Over It': The Rage of Bereavement * 5) A Grief Observed - C.S. LewisTLDR: Daughter now three, bday party was hard. She is grieving and hurting deeply. She cannot understand or explain how she feels. Started self-harming. Hugely separation anxiety for me and is terrified that I will 'go away'. Become scared of 'monsters'. Had to tell her Mummy is a star to give daughter something tangible she could focus on.This update post has been too long in coming. It was just too hard, too painful, and I have been focusing all my attention on my daughter.Firstly; a HUGE thank you to each and every person who commented. An even bigger one to those of you who have PM'ed me stories, anecdotes and support. **Especially to those of you who have lived through similar events, and chose to relive those experiences, even though it's painful.Sincerely, thank you.So,,,,,,Since the last post. The day before the funeral is when I told my daughter Mummy had died. Because she was only two she could not understand the inappropriately detailed and advanced explanation I was given by Winston's Wish. It spoke of heaven and angels, a long bit about how sick Mummy was, etc. My daughter lost concentration after a couple minutes. I had to instead go with; Mummy was really, really ill. Her body was broken. The doctors couldn't fix her, and Daddy couldn't fix her. Mummy didn't want to, but Mummy died. She can't come back. Truth be told, initially I went with 'Mummy was really ill. Mummy died. She can't come back'.My daughter let out the tiniest, saddest 'Noooo' I have ever heard from her. Around the time I stopped commenting on the OP was the time when my daughter started melting down. She was scared by all the visitors, so I unilaterally declared an absolute ban on any and all visitors - which really offended my Aunt who had flown over from America within a day of finding out. My concern was only for my little one. And she remains my only priority.It has been a really, really, hard few months. I am actually counting the days, hours, minutes and seconds since my wife died. I have an app. At times it has been a case of watching the seconds count up, usually in the dead of the night. Sometimes it has been a minute by minute situation. Other times I have had to fight to get from one breath to the next, because it has been so, so hard.Thankfully my daughter is still able to be happy. I have done everything I can to protect my daughter from all the heightened emotions and the upset in her routine. Keeping a rigid routine is definitely key. It is absolutely vital to anyone in this position to try and maintain a 'normal' daily routine. Toddlers need this, their stability is built around this. It has helped my little one to remain anchored. As did telling her that Mummy has become a star.I know it is contentious, and that multiple posters warned me against doing so. In this instance my little one was becoming increasingly lost, she couldn't understand 'dead' or where you go. How can you tell a toddler that there is big unknowable, invisible and all powerful entity who can snuff you out in the blink of an eye. Or conversely, tell them that once you die that is that, you are worm food. At this age they cannot understand the difference between dreams/imagination and reality. My daughter has developed a new and severe fear of the dark and 'monsters'. I have now placed three different light sources in her room, and keep her door wide open with the landing light on. She also has two torches in her bed, one of which I have physically attached to Mummy's Pillow - the one my wife used every night, and now daughter sleeps on it most nights.Telling my daughter that Mummy is a star has been a big help. It gave her something she could see, something real. Not a story about any supreme being which may or may not exist. Every single morning and every single night, we say hello to Mummy. Even though it is torture for me - she talks to the star as if Mummy is right in front of us in the flesh. She tells Mummy how much she loves her, and most heart-rending *'I miss you all the time'. And each time she does I cry. I can't help it. I'm crying right now.I have to be careful about my own grief (and yes I am seeing someone). It is important that I do not let her see me sobbing, because it makes her very distressed. It's only happened about 3 times in total, but each time my daughter becomes agitated and outright terrified. Last time it happened my mother told me that daughter started calling for her (I had already done so), and when my mother arrived she says that daughter looked terrified and had no idea what to do. My daughter sees me crying, and she knows it is ok to cry, it is ok to be sad, because it means we love Mummy and miss her.And my God do I miss her. I miss her with every single heartbeat. There has not been a single second where I haven't wished it had been me instead. Everyone keeps telling me that I have to keep going for my daughter, that she is utterly reliant on me. Which is most definitely the case.Daughter has nightmares about something bad happening to me, 'going away'. Her anxiety has also resulted in stopping me from eating bananas with brown spots, 'because it will make you go away'.We talk about these things, I reassure her as much as I can. I give her a safe space where she can express any emotions she has. I encourage her to talk about her feelings. That it is ok to feel sad. We talk about Mummy and happy times we had. I show her photos and video. I wish we had taken more video. We also draw pictures for Mummy - on Christmas Eve I went to the grave and I put one of her drawings there, attached to the roses I placed there. Other drawings I keep in a special keepsake box. All my wife's possessions have become holy objects of veneration for me. Every time I go past my wife's coat I stop, close my eyes and smell the perfume still on it. But that smell is fading, and it feels like losing another little piece of my wife.I can go on and on. Tell you all about the grind of daily life. But it is both redundant and personally painful.It has been a lifetime since my wife died. It has been a single day.My daughter is hurting deeply. And as her understanding increases, so does her grief. I am getting her help, and me too.But fuck, I never knew how much grief feels like fear. (paraphrasing C.S. Lewis)Take care, Happy New Year, Give your spouse/partner/whatever and your kid(s) a huge hug and a big kiss on me.And for the love of everything, understand that the bullshit pride that stops us apologising/letting go of a grudge, is just that. Bullshit.Because I promise you this, if you lose them, that person you see your future with, then you will spend every day beating yourself over every missed opportunity.And finally: Happy New Year - as of 1.5 minutes GMT. via /r/Parenting http://ift.tt/2CwH2do