Monday, December 21, 2015

On Grief

Among our happy Christmas preparations, we were hit suddenly and unexpectedly by GRIEF.  The world is full of grief, I've lost several family members in the past few months, I see grief around me everywhere.  But for our children, for my husband, this one hit the closest to home.  Little pup Fergie died, accidentally plowed into a snowbank by my husband.  We're guessing she died of hypothermia.  And the family is devastated.  Rob - in addition to losing a dog he truly loved - feels guilty.  I have reassured him it was an accident, but that doesn't make him feel any better.  The kids go in waves - one minute they're fine, the next they're crying for 45 minutes solid.  It hits them suddenly, when the dog they assume will be there suddenly isn't, and they remember why.   
 


We had a little "laying to rest" service for this pup.  We had the kids spend some time alone with her before hand, to say their goodbyes.  They pet her, and cried.  We all cried.  We shared memories, and cried some more. 

My mom said "kids are resilient, they'll be just fine.  Just don't let them wallow in it and make it a big deal."  My mother in law said "we wouldn't have handled it like this when I was a kid.  My dad would just have thrown it in a hole out back and be done with it."  When they were younger, the last dog we lost, we didn't let them see her.  Rob just quietly buried her out in the woods and was done with it.  But this dog is different, and we wanted to handle it differently.

We wanted them to grieve.

In this world of easy violence - video games and movies, and sterile "choices" that do not equate to PEOPLE DYING FOR REAL - we wanted them to see death.  We wanted them to know that death is a part of life.  We wanted them to know that death hurts, and people FEEL IT.  A dog doesn't just disappear into the woods and is gone.  She is dead.  Know what this is.  Don't wallow and perseverate.  But we wanted them to feel what death feels like to those left behind.  It's part of being human, to hurt because of love for another.  And we didn't want to take that away from them, even in the interest of "sparing their feelings".   And Fergie allowed us that opportunity in a way that was very, very sad, but not overwhelming.  They didn't lose a grandparent or a sibling, or a parent.  They lost a dog.  They can process her loss, learn from that process, and move on.  They can learn how to grieve, and not be scarred by it, but better people for it.  Because now they KNOW that death doesn't just mean "disappearing" like it does in the movies or on the videogame.  They know what death looks like, and feels like, for real.

Through experiencing death, they learn the value of life.

So thank you, Fergie, for giving that opportunity to my children through your death. 

Rest In Peace.

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