Oh mercy, it's been sad. You met Vanilla here. And though I reminded you occasionally with many references to hamster cage cleaning, since it seems I like to mention that, you couldn't completely know that that little ball of grey and white fuzz has been a part of our daily lives in a major way.
As soon as Echo could stand tall enough on her tip-toes and reach down far enough with her little arm, that hamster became the most held and adored pet in the household. Sometimes there was just a kiss on the belly and she was returned slightly dazed to her lamb's wool nest. Other times there were hamster "races" up the stairs in which Bella, Xi, and Echo would steer and cheer the little fuzzy ball up each gigantic-to-her rise and reward her with cat food niblets or broccoli. And at night, snuggled on the couch for a movie, Nathan and I would lift our legs so that Vanilla, encased in her battered plastic hamster ball could roll past, explore the house, and burn off some of her frantic nocturnal energy.
Vanilla led a full life, even at one time escaping to spend a night and a day as a free agent in Romy's basement. But last night while cooking dinner, I just got a feeling. I realized I hadn't fed Vanilla in a couple of days yet there was still lots of food stashed about. Not a good sign. So I ditched the pan of frying potatoes and gently nudged her balled up sleeping form. Cold.
Nathan and I looked at each other with shock and disbelief and immediately glanced up the stairs where the girls were playing blissfully. They must have heard the tone in our voices and Xi yelled: What is it? and I said plainly: Vanilla is dead. They hustled down, more out of curiosity than grief, as if to say what is this craziness you speak of? But when Echo reached in to touch and the reality of our words sunk in, I could see the pain flood her little body. She turned to me with incredible, sharp, sorrow.
At that moment I was so glad to have children. Seeing her sadness let loose my own grief and finally I could cry. Xi was slower to come to her feelings and when they arrived, she realized she was mad. And all of us felt regret that we hadn't held Vanilla that day. We didn't get to give her a last kiss. You just never know when a loved one will go.
But like my friend Romy said after a flurry of text messages, children are so good at burying their dead. Immediately pens, pencils, and glue sticks were retrieved. The girls alternated between giddiness at having such a fun and exciting project as decorating a coffin, and total devastation when they remembered who was going into that tiny box. At one point Echo said: I hate death! Hideous death!
Nightfall found us graveside, with Bella on speakerphone delivering a really grown-up eulogy.
I've written over 500 words about a hamster. I could write 500 more. There is so much wrapped up in a family friend like Vanilla. Innocence, joy, grief. Echo keeps counting the number of animals we now have, so sad that the tally has dropped, and at night she begs me to please, please not die.
I'm just in awe of this beautiful celebration of life and death. The lessons your children are learning about death and grieving here are lessons that they will keep with them for a very long time. You have given them space for their sadness and space for honoring life. I hear your pain too, and I'm grateful that you took the space to share your loss with your readers.
Posted by: Anne Flores | 04/08/2011 at 10:41 AM
I can feel your pain! It's just horrible when a beloved pet dies. You feel so powerless, and you just wish you could cuddle them one more time...
I've painted quite a few grave stones for cats and also squirrels, mice and birds (the latter killed by the afore-mentioned cats), too.
Sending you well wishes!
Posted by: Kat | 04/08/2011 at 02:27 PM
Yes, such a Universal event, death. I like the image of tiny squirrel, mice, bird, and cat grave stones. And yes, I am glad the girls get a chance to take a close look at this weird thing called death, to notice how the physical presence just goes poof but the other part lingers.
Posted by: Natalie | 04/08/2011 at 03:53 PM
It's so healthy and so hard to be where you are :) I've been there quite recently as we found our beloved friends' pet dead on the road and had to let them know and then we were asked to help bury the cat. So much meaning, purpose and the sacredness of cycles have been in the forefront for us lately. I wrote about it on my blog, too, titled 'Celebrating Jet'.
I'm grateful your family is sooo there for your kids, mama and papa united and strong for them.
Blessings,
~Erin
Posted by: erin | 04/11/2011 at 12:17 AM
Hi Erin,
I was thinking of you and your family as we buried Vanilla. I had read your post and was remembering the strength of your response to that sweet cat. Death of an animal is such a perfect package for looking at all of those feelings, and the broader sense of life, death, and the turning of the cosmos. Blessings to you all as well.
Posted by: Natalie | 04/11/2011 at 08:41 AM
Thank you, I am touched that you were touched. Ripples outwards and back again to the center...
xx
~Erin
Posted by: Erin | 04/12/2011 at 12:16 AM