An emperor commissioned a work from the greatest calligrapher in the nation. "Make me something auspicious!" was the brief. The calligrapher thought for a moment, then wrote on a banner:
Parents die. Emperor dies. Children die.
The emperor was outraged. "How is this auspicious? It speaks only of death!" The calligrapher was serene. "Emperor, there is nothing more auspicious than for your deaths to occur in the natural order. Would you have wanted to die before your parents? Would you want your children to die before you?
Loosely translated to: May God give deaths in (natural) order...
I think about this every now and then, and thank god for all i have.
https://dying.lovetoknow.com/ideas-advice-coping-grief/vilom...
More common, perhaps, but I'm not so sure about the not notable part. There are plenty of examples of great grief surrounding the loss of a child. An example that comes to mind from my recent reading is Dostoevsky and "The Brothers Karamazov." The author was experiencing grief from the loss of a 3 year old son and the book rings with it.
However much the past is a different country, it is still populated by humans, same as any today.
There's some good poetic value in it, but I don't know if it's actually true. It has more to do with the effect it has for someone's "normal" life cycle, which is why orphan is only applied to children and not adults. And as the sibling comment mentions, it was pretty common in a family of ~5-10 to have at least one child die.
Bureaucratic dehumanization is responsible for reinforcing traumas that cultures had already built ways of dealing with. My grandparents' generation reused the names of their children who didn't survive, but today, few couples would consider that with any name they were forced to write on both a birth and death certificate.
Nice way to flip "my greatest fear"
How do you even go on after that?
She was a kind old lady who used to speak with my young daughter every morning.
As you can imagine, it was a deeply traumatic experience for her.