It was your typical afternoon commute, only more somber. We had recently lost a friend and we were making plans for the week; plans that included a funeral. I thought the conversation was between Mom and me when a voice from the backseat joined the discussion.

"My black dress doesn't fit anymore. I don't have a thing to wear," my daughter said.

To be honest, I found the statement insensitive if not a bit morbid. Clothing was the farthest thing from my mind. Instead, my thoughts ran to the family and all the feelings coursing through their household. My little fashionista, on the other hand, was trying to pick out her wardrobe. The only thing that prevented my reprimand was the look on her face in the rearview mirror. There was no joy in her eyes, just a "matter of fact" expression. She was resolute.

By all measures, this has been a typical year, with both triumphs and tragedies. Sometimes it seems life is in full bloom: new jobs, new lovers, new life. At other times, it seems life is full of loss: resignations, breakups, death. Most times, it is a combination of the two.

As a parent, it's tempting to shield children from life's most sorrowful moments. In fact, this is completely appropriate. A young child needs a buffer from the harsh realities of life and later, as they age, a solid support system.

But to a certain degree, debating a child's readiness to handle life's toughest experiences is the ultimate luxury. For many there is no choice. If you can have the discussion with your partner about "when and if" to break difficult news to your child ... consider yourself blessed, and know that others aren't so lucky.

I watched my daughter for the next week, not knowing what to expect. This was her first loss, at least the first she will remember.

Slowly but surely I began to realize that my original concerns were unfounded. Yes, my little angel is indeed a fashionista, but her "concerns" about not having a thing to wear ran much deeper than fashion.

She wasn't looking for a new outfit, she was staking her claim on adulthood. Letting Mom and I know that she was ready to take her place in the family, ready to accept not only the joys of life, but the pain as well. She was putting on her bravest face.

As a parent, it is tempting to shield your child from life's most sorrowful moments. And if you are lucky, blessed, or both, the time will come much later, when your child tells you in no uncertain terms that she is ready to deal with life in its glory as well as in its darker hours. She will tell you that she is ready to join the circle.

As it turned out, the funeral was held during her weeklong soccer camp. We decided as a family, that she should attend the camp and Mom and I would extend her condolences to the family. There was no relief on her face, just the same resolute look I saw a week earlier. There was no turning back.

I wore blue jeans and a black aloha shirt to the funeral. My wife wore a beige blouse with dark brown capris. My daughter, had she attended, would have insisted on a black dress.

Michael C. DeMattos is on faculty at the University of Hawai'i School of Social Work. Born and raised on the Wai'anae Coast, he now lives in Kane'ohe with his wife, daughter, two dogs, two mice and 1,000 worms.