Thursday, June 24, 2010

Growth Chart

I can’t believe that we are down to one dog. The Ted. We have always been a two or three dog family. We have bowls, beds, leashes, and food bins. We have an entire kitchen cabinet full of canine medicines and supplements. We have a sign on our door indicating to courageous firefighters that that they should press on after the miraculous rescue of one pup, to the back of the house to rescue the others. We are dog people.

If you are curious, or if maybe this helps you in the future, I’d like to tell you a little bit about June 22nd. We chose to have Meazi and Melese with us when the vet came over to put Moses to sleep. I had been preparing Meazi, a little bit, over the last couple of months. I told her that Moses was near the end of his long life, that he was probably going to die soon, and that we needed to show him a lot of love every day. On Tuesday Moses went to his bed like he always does. Melese got a bottle, but was not falling asleep easily. Melese kept getting out of the bed. He plopped himself down next to Moses, gave him two gentle pats, and then finally went to sleep. The vet came into our dimly lit room where we all sleep together. She gave Moses two shots, the first a sedative, the second one to stop his heart. We were all there. Meazi had brought Moses two teddy bears, ‘Pinkberry,’ her pink bear that Pip and Squeak made for her, and another small bear. The three of us sat around Moses, holding him and talking to him. The most upsetting part for Meazi was seeing her daddy cry. (I think it was my fourth time seeing Steven cry in the nearly fifteen years that we have been together). Although this part was tough for Meazi, I believe that we made the right decision. I have mentioned before that Meazi has some experience with death. What she didn’t have, until Tuesday, was an experience with a peaceful, gentle, death. Moses simply died in his fleece-lined bed.

Shortly after Moses died, we began telling Meazi our favorite, happy, Moses stories. We told her again about the Easter when he and Lummi ate thirty-six dyed Easter eggs and pooped in Technicolor for weeks, and about the time he and Lummi unzipped our camping tent in the middle of the night, went for a moonlight adventure and then came back and leaned against the outside of the tent, convincing us that a wild animal was about to attack us. We talked about all of the trips we took with Moses, all of the hiking, all of the swimming, all of the fun.

The next part was harder to explain so we stretched the truth a bit. We didn’t think she was old enough, or mature enough, to hear about cremation. She knows about burial. She knows that bodies are placed into the earth. She also knows (from school) that things decompose. When the man from the pet mortuary came to get Moses, we told her he was taking the body to decompose. I showed her where we keep the decomposed body of Lummi (really her ashes) and she asked to see them. So, not totally honest about that, but we felt it was too much. When the mortuary guy came in, smelling ironically like smoke, he saw Ted lying in the hallway, pointed at him and said, “So this is the pup?” Poor Ted, he had already become visibly agitated when he recognized the Kevorkian vet who helped us with Lummi three years ago. I said, “Uhm, No, Teddy is still breathing. Leave him alone please.”We had talked to Meazi about it just being Moses’ body at this point, and that his spirit would always be with us. (I know, I know, a lot for this almost five-year old to take).

The next day, in an incredible moment, Meazi for the first time ever, walked to the pantry, opened it, and got Teddy’s breakfast ready. It was as if she knew that the sight of two bowls, and two bins, would be way too much for me to handle that first Moses-less morning. She also said, “We have to be extra nice to Teddy today momma. He might be lonely and missing his friend.”

Meazi and Melese came to us with grief. Steven and I have had losses of our own. Moses, (and I realize he is a dog, and that this is a lucky, privileged, women's lament), was the first loss we shared together. It's like we took a black sharpie pen to our family's growth chart, and added a new marker.

On the day following the evening of the sadness, we knew we would have to do something fun and life affirming for the kids. Steven went into work late. After breakfast, the four of us went to the hospital where we were lucky enough to meet two new friends.

Doesn't get much more life affirming than that; twin babies, a boy and a girl, just a day old.

Later that afternoon, Meazi and Melese got to go swimming with Pip and Squeak, and we even went out for ice cream after dinner.


Thank you for your advice on how to handle this. I hope it was the right decision for our family. It was definitely the right decision for Moses.

25 comments:

  1. Thank you for sharing this. So touching on so many levels. Much Love.

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  2. Tears streaking down my face. Being honest and giving your children the gift of being involved in emotionally difficult times will only make them more able to handle what life throws their way. I had my 2 1/2 year old see her deceased, much beloved great grandma's body in the coffin because I was scared she would think we were burying her alive. I wanted her to know that her great grandma was gone before the burial. The advice I was given from a child therapist was kids follow your emotional leads and you lead them to a place where when those we love die we grieve, we tell stories, we love, we remember and then go out to ice cream and see babies. You rock! ~ Heather

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  3. RIP moses. Please go and run and play with our Sebastian (corgi 12/14/09). I feel your pain of losing a beloved pet. They are really part of the family human or pet. we still really love and miss them when here and when gone.

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  4. I think you did the right thing...obviously I'm struggling with this same thing. It's hard to prepare children for death, hell it's hard to prepare ourselves for death. But I think you gave them just what they needed. Honesty and truth.

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  5. thank you for sharing. and it looks like the kids are definitely handling it well. i cant imagine what it will be like for me when I lose my pup. She is starting to go blind from old age now and that is hard enough for me to see. when she was a pup i could hold her in the palm of my hand. :(

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  6. Thank you for sharing this. It sounds like you handled it beautifully and appropriately for your children. This is such a tough process to go through and it's hard to think about the little things like how your child will react when seeing her father cry. But it's also amazing to hear things like Meazi getting the food dish out in the morning for Ted. Children are just amazing in that way. Hugs to you all.

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  7. so thoughtful and beautiful. the "corrective experience" of a peaceful, loving death experience can have such a significant impact. blessings to you guys in this time of loss. xo

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  8. Julie

    Thank you for this. I am just getting back to reading the blogs (took a hiatus from the blog world as so much of it was too painful) You have always been such a great writer on loss. Thank you.

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  9. brilliant! I think you handled it brilliantly! You gave them just the right amount of truth and support and kept it at a level they could handle. I think you honored both your children and Moses through this experience. and then birth...full circle. what a profound week of connection for you all.

    much love and healing to you dear mama.

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  10. I haven't cried reading this blog for a while. Bawling at work, just like in the old days. I really do feel love for your family, and gratitude that you are willing to share these things.

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  11. So moving...thank you for sharing it with all of us.

    The only time I have ever seen my father cry was when I was 13 or 14 and we were driving home from having our family dog put down. It was just the two of us in the car, so I'm not sure any of my siblings have EVER seen the man cry.

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  12. I'm glad the Meazi got to see that death can be different than her past experiences. I think you did a great job. It is so hard. I love my dogs so much, too.

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  13. I think you handled it all perfectly.

    Much love,

    me

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  14. I really don't have the words to respond to this.

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  15. Oh, Julie! I have been busy with the boys and not reading lately. I am so so sorry to hear of this loss. Hugs to you all.

    Heidi

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  16. I learn so much from you and think you both know just how to parent M&m perfectly...for you....for them. Meazi has so much compassion and is so connected to her emotions and the emotions of those around her. You are definitely helping and supporting that. I love the book she made. I am so sorry that Ted is the only one of the 3 amigos still living....Moses and Lummi will live on in memory forever...

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  17. As with everything you write about, even the loss of your sweet Moses is tinged with beauty. How wonderful that you and Steven and your children (and Teddy!) can come together for each other and heal, and how poignant that Meazi now knows death can be experienced in an entirely different way. Peace.

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  18. OMG. Total tears. I lost all my grandparents young. I lost my dad at 22 from a totally unexpected heart attack. My husband lost his dad at 23 from a totally unexpected heart attack. We loved and grieved them (and do to this day)...

    And, yet, with so much grief, it's the animal deaths that take us by surprise and whallop us with emotion... The tender kisses dogs give us, the fact they're ALWAYS there for us, their steadfast loyalty and devotion. And, the simple fact that they implicitly trust us to do the right thing for them....

    I feel for your family. Heartfelt condolences and best wishes. You handled it beautifully, and I took note for that day when it will (sadly) revisit our family again....

    Kari
    (almost-mommy to 2 Ukrainian special needs kids & 4 shelter pups)

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  19. You guys are amazing parents. To your children, to your sweet dogs. I'm so sad for you, but amazed at your strength and honesty. Thinking of Sweet Moses too.

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  20. This is beautiful, Julie. I love it that Meazi told you Teddy would be missing his friend. Sounds like you all handled this all so well. Hope the acuteness of the pain dulls quickly.

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  21. So beautifully touching. If only we could all leave this Earth in such a peaceful way, surrounding by those we love.

    Thank you for sharing (and I mean this in more ways than one)....

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  22. There could be no better parents for M&m than you guys.

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  23. I've had to read this in bits and parcel because of 3 year old stuff... but each time I cried. It is hard and painful and such a difficult one to navigate given the grief they come with. Everyone else will always say 'what they would do' but... the reality is each of us have to figure it out for ourselves and do the best by our family as a whole and our children as individuals. Which often leaves our own needs sorting out later. You continue to inspire and covey it beautifully.

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  24. j- this sounds incredibly difficult and sad! it also sounds as if you did things with a lot of dignity and intention, without secrets or mysteries, allowing your children to grieve with you in their own way. it is a spot on your parenting chart you can feel proud of, even in the sadness. sending you love and hopes for healing for your broken hearts...

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  25. A little late on this - but my heart goes out to you.

    - Wendy (4dogmomma)

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