Learning About Loss

Last night began as a happy night. Tom and I had returned from a trip to Kansas City and the kids were thrilled to see us. There were lots of hugs, kisses, and stories shared. They filled us in on everything we had missed while we were away. There was a general feeling of happiness and contentment in the air.

We tucked the kids into bed and a few minutes later there was a knock at the door. My first thought was that it was the Schwan's man, making one of his late night stops. Tom had just left to go pick up some take-out, since we hadn’t eaten dinner yet. I answered the door and it was our neighbor girl from across the street. She stood there and just stared at me and said, “I’m so sorry….Charlie…”, and pointed out to the road.

In the street, I saw several teenagers gathered around our sweet cat, Charlie. I ran out and knelt down to feel if he was breathing or not, while demanding to know what had happened. They told me that one of our neighbors came around the corner too fast and hit him.

I felt Charlie’s warm body and felt a faint pulse. It was quite obvious that he wasn’t going to make it and these were his final moments. I knelt by him in the road and buried my face in my hands as I sobbed. How I loved Charlie. The teenagers asked if there was somewhere I could take him…anything that someone could do to save him….but I knew it was quickly coming to an end. Just then, the kids all came running out of the house. They had heard the knock and were curious as to what was going on. They instantly broke into loud sobbing as they gathered around Charlie.

Tom loved “Charlie Cat” so much. It broke my heart when he pulled around the corner and saw us all huddled in the road around his cat’s lifeless body. He jumped out of his truck and I could see him trying to hold his emotion back as he asked what had happened.

I picked Charlie up and carried him into our driveway. The kids sobbing grew louder and Tom suggested I take them all inside. Since I had experienced the tremendous loss of my own father when I was at a young age, like them….I knew how important it was that they be allowed to feel and mourn. I told Tom that it was okay for them to hurt and they needed to say their goodbyes.

Bradley wept as he whimpered, “But Charlie would have loved Donkey Hill!”. We had always talked about how Charlie and his brother, Bob, were going to love it when we moved to Donkey Hill and how much fun they would have.

They said their final “I love you’s” and gave him their final pets, and I took them inside.

Turning their back on Charlie, their crying escalated as they went into their rooms and buried their faces in their pillows to muffle the voice of their pain.

My heart was breaking. As I slid on to Karah’s bed, my mind instantly flashed back to my own mother, sliding on to the side of my bed, to tell me that my Daddy had died and wouldn’t be coming home. How did she ever do it? How did her heart not crumble? Here I was, comforting my child over the loss of her pet…feeling like my heart was going to burst in my chest? How did my mom ever handle something so much bigger…with SIX babies to console? My love and respect for her grew exponentially in that moment.

It felt like someone was sitting on my chest. Though I was horribly saddened at the loss of my friend, Charlie…what hurt the most was seeing my children taste of true mourning for the first time. I had recently read this article from the conference Ensign.

In it, Cheryl A. Epslin says:

“Our role as parents is to do all we can to create an atmosphere where our children can feel the influence of the Spirit and then help them recognize what they are feeling.”

She continued, “Sometimes the most powerful way to teach our children to understand a doctrine is to teach in the context of what they are experiencing right at that moment. These moments are spontaneous and unplanned and happen in the normal flow of family life. They come and go quickly, so we need to be alert and recognize a teaching moment when our children come to us with a question or worry, when they have problems getting along with siblings or friends, when they need to control their anger, when they make a mistake, or when they need to make a decision. If we are ready and will let the Spirit guide in these situations, our children will be taught with greater effect and understanding.”

I was so thankful to have that fresh in my mind. I knew that this could be a testimony building experience if it was approached in the right way. I talked to the kids about Heavenly Father’s Plan of Salvation. They asked questions about death, the resurrection, and The Second Coming of our Savior. We talked about the Holy Ghost’s role as Comforter and the kids recognized the peaceful feeling that was coming to their hearts. I bore testimony of eternal families and the Priesthood power that has sealed us together, forever. When I was talking to Karah, I told her to pray to Heavenly Father and ask that she be able to feel the peace of the comforter and to know that He hears her prayers.

After I spoke with the kids, I went and prayed for my babies, that their hearts would heal and that they would feel closer to Him as a result of this traumatic experience. Not long after that, Karah excitedly shared with us that she had said a prayer to Heavenly Father – asking him to take care of Charlie. Through her sobs, she said, “I told Him to tell Charlie that I love him…and all of the sudden, I HEARD the words, “I love you too”. She said, “At first I thought they were words I thought, but I knew it wasn’t. I actually felt the words in my ears!”

When we tucked her in the final time, she had the sweetest look of peace on her face. She asked me to sing her “Angel Lullaby”…her most favorite song for me to sing to her.

This morning, the kids decorated his burial box.

 

They even took shedding hair off of Charlie's brother, Bob, and taped it to the box.

We took Charlie to Donkey Hill and the kids picked out a resting place for their beloved friend. They chose a spot under a beautiful shade tree.

After he was buried, Karah offered the sweetest, heartfelt prayer. We decided we would turn it into a little flower garden and put a plaque on the tree, in honor of Charlie. We might even hang a tire swing from one of the branches, since Charlie used to love to lounge under the tree when the kids were swinging at our house.

It was such a bittersweet experience. I am so thankful that my children have pets and that they can learn responsibility, develop bonds of love and companionship, and at times like these…learn about life and loss, as young children. It’s sweet to see the Atonement in full action in their lives…being succored by He who descended below all things…and who was so well acquainted with grief.  Though tragic and heartbreaking, this really has been such an amazing experience for us as a family and has brought each of us closer to our Heavenly Father.

Thank you,  Charlie Cat, for the memories…for your purrs, for your love, and for your loyal friendship.

We will miss you…

until we meet again.

We look forward to posting pictures of “Charlie’s Garden” when it’s all finished!