Sorry about the morbid title. Since we have just experienced one here, it seems foremost on our minds.
Even before the dog fell, Buzz had been asking haphazardly if the dog was sad that he was going to die. Since I am not a person who dwells on strong feelings, this was something I wanted to avoid talking about with him. Not because I felt he couldn’t handle talk of death. But because of me.
In my 40+ years I have rarely forced myself to deal with life’s strong issues. I have had to put a pet down before. But being me, I avoided it. That is, I wasn’t there. My horse colicked and in the wee hours of the night I decided that his 23 years were enough and I was not going to spend over $2,000 for him to have emergency surgery. Then I left the barn. I don’t think I could have watched him drop after receiving the injection. Part of my brain knew it was right, the other part wanted to deny letting it happen. So I retreated into myself and pretended I was OK. Avoid.
My cat had a huge tumor in his stomach/intestines and had dropped a huge amount of weight. I opted for exploratory surgery this time, but had just moved homes with two children under two. I got to say goodbye to him the night before, but not right before he was put down. The busyness of my young-kid-mom life let me not think of it. I felt guilty, oh yes, but it was easy to put it aside because I had mouths to feed, bottoms to wipe, and a house to unpack. Sometimes he still walks through my dreams, but less and less anymore. That makes me even sadder. Avoid.
I had trouble with the dog’s death because I knew there was going to be more to it this time.
The dog is DadOfAllTrades’ first born. He is and will always be very attached to that animal, and rightly so. The unconditional love of a dog is nothing to shake a stick at. I know the dog was a constant when other things in his life were in turmoil. There is some sweet satisfaction of coming home to an animal that is just so excited for you to be home, no matter how dirty or tired you are from the day’s work. No judgment, just a “great to see you, dad! Let’s go out!” I knew that I was going to have to play the support role, something I unusually shy away from because I feel like I can never say the right thing. But I had no choice, DadOfAllTrades needed me and I needed to deliver.
I also had to learn how to explain death and funerals and cremation. I never had to do that before. Not that I didn’t know what they were, or could not explain them. I had been around folks who know what they are. Now I have two little ones who have not had the experience of knowing, so I must make them aware. I could not anticipate questions, but had to handle them straight on when they came.
“Where so we go when we die?” Easy one-Our body stays here on earth because we don’t need it anymore. Our spirit, or soul, our stuff that makes us who we are, goes to play with God and Jesus.
“Why don’t we need our body anymore? Will the dog need his body?” Um-because in heaven there is no pain. If our body was sick, then we had pain and God loves us too much for that. He wants us to have a heavenly body.
“Are our heavenly bodies lighter? ‘Cuz the one I have would fall through the clouds.” Giggle-Yes, our heavenly bodies are lighter.
“What happens to a real dead body?” Yucky one-One could be embalmed and buried or entombed. Or one could be cremated and the ashes kept in an urn.
“Are we going to use the wood burner to burn the dog?” Hard one-No, honey. One needs a stove that can get much hotter than ours. And besides, how would we separate the ashes of the dog from the ashes of the wood? Their stove keeps those things separate.
“Is the dog sad that he is going to die?”
Back to the beginning again. And then around the circle of questions again. I realize that each time they ask, they may understand just a little more and I am glad to be the one that can do this for them, no matter how hard it is for me to force myself through it.
Because I tend to avoid, I have never worked this out in my own head. I have found myself thanking God recently for giving me my two boys so that I could become more. Not 1+1=2 more, but more me. My thoughts are more. My feelings are more. My body is more (but that can be fixed<wink>) in a sense that I am amazed at the life it can create without needing directions. The fact that I must explain the process to them has allowed me to finally come to peace with death. I no longer have the option of avoidance. And I thank God for that.
My relationship with God is more, too.
How does one teach a child that the hard times are when you get closer to your God? It is so easy to walk away from Him when a tragedy happens- even the death of a dog that one saw coming- and be mad at Him for letting it happen. But this time it has been different for me. I have noticed that my prayers for strength to support DadOfAllTrades pain have been answered. He has allowed me the right words when it is time and has shown me when to keep my mouth shut. God has answered my prayers for “the right words” to help my boys through this and my prayers of “help me recognize when they are struggling”. He has held my hand through these last weeks by having us grow closer before the death.
All this talk of death has made me grow stronger, made me more. Thank God for that.
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