on death and dying and other stuff

It seems that lately the "death" theme has been hovering above my head. I am a hospice nurse, so it may seem apparent that dying is a common part of my days, but it's been interesting to hear my kids perception on the end of life.

Recently, our little, black kitty named "Bear" was killed by some neighborhood gansta dogs who were roaming away from their home. I would like to call Bear a beloved pet, but the truth is he was mean and naughty and I can only hope we would have eventually grown to love him. Regardless of his horrible temperament, I would, of course, have never wished a dog mauling on poor Bear. When I told the kids that Bear had died and wouldn't be coming home, Jacob thought for a while and said..."Mom, I think Bear is going to be OK!". Of course, this was true in the long run, but right at the moment, Jacob couldn't understand that Bear was actually quite dead. Eddie chimed in that Bear was sleeping. I wondered why the idea that death is a permanent thing (at least in this life) was so hard for them to grasp, but my mind ran to all the times in movies or children's stories that dead things come back to life. In "Prince Caspian", a little drop from a magical bottle will bring you back again. In "Snow White" and "Sleeping Beauty"...the princesses are kind of "just sleeping". It's a hard concept for little ones even without all the mixed messages. Dang you Walt Disney!

A few weeks ago, Dave's sister and her family came to visit when a relative of theirs who lived near us passed away. Jacob was already at Preschool when they left for the funeral services. He came home and looked around at the empty house.

Jacob - Where's all my cousins?
Me - They went to the funeral.
Jacob - What's a funeral?
Me - When someone you love dies, you meet together at a church to talk about that person and what they meant to you.
Jacob - Oh, I see (a favorite phrase of his)! Well, who died?
Me - Uncle Rob's Aunt.
Jacob - Ohhhh, Who did it?

Apparently, most of Jacob's ideas about dying come from the battle scenes in "The Chronicles of Narnia" movies. The only way people die, he assumes, is by being brutally murdered. He and Eddie are obsessed lately with acting with "swords" (hot wheels tracks) and "bows and arrows" (curved train tracks fitted with rubber bands and No. 2 pencils) and then saying things like "You're dead!" or my favorite "My died!". I think this is a normal little boy thing to be interested in, so I don't worry about the present macabre play-time theme too much.

On a side note...Jacob invents his weapons quite ingeniously. He can actually shoot the pencils 20 feet or so with his homemade bow. He also has a variation on the standard, a crossbow, that he makes some days using a few more pieces. Dave is sure he is going to grow up to be a weapons manufacturer, which is of course, every parents dream. We can only hope...





Of course, death is something my chidren will certainly learn to understand, as everyone does. Maybe sooner than later as they are lucky enough to have TWO 96 year old great-grandmothers who, so far, can't seem to buy a ticket off this earth. Believe me, if they were for sale, my dear Grandmas' would happily be the first two in line. I tell Dave all the time, he better take good care of himself and our retirement accounts because, with my genetics, I will likely live to be 117.

Grief is such a funny thing, because I think I remember what's it like, to lose someone; and then, when I find myself in the middle of it, like when my Grandpa died several years ago...it surprises me how MUCH it hurts. I have to remind myself, of all the times I have gotten in my car to drive to a home of a loved patient who just died, and I get this euphoric feeling. That feeling you get when you are in your car on a beautiful day, the best song comes on the radio and you can't help but roll down the windows and drive a little faster than you should. That joy...I feel that a lot (not all the time), but frequently on my way to a home full of crying, loving family members. It seems contradictory, but I think it is just relief for the person who is gone...happiness that they are on the other end of a hard journey, mixed with sadness for their loved ones who are just starting on another hard journey of their own. Dave's Grandpa has a book of quotations and compilations from talks he gave throughout his life. One thing he said that I have always remembered is this..."The happiness of death is hidden from us, so that we can tolerate living.".

This blog got a little self indulgent (which I guess is the point of blogging so why point that out). Sometimes my thoughts run in a direction I wasn't planning, but that's the fun, or the really not fun (depending on how much you enjoy this topic), thing about writing.