Rough night at the Hobbs’ house.
Our beloved fish, Hiya, died. (And it may or may not be mostly, or entirely, my fault.)
Watching my son realize that his fish-buddy was no longer living, was truly heartbreaking.
Watching his sister grieve was mostly just funny,
She fake cried so intensely.
The way she committed to her role as distraught-former-pet-owner…MAN, it was inspiring.
Truly, watching the way the two of them processed this new reality was sort of fascinating, when not equal parts heartbreaking and hilarious.
Little-Love took pretend photos of her “beloved” fish, (I use the word “beloved” SUPER loosely here, my girl really couldn’t have cared less. I guess Little-love’s not a fish person.)
Cyclone decided to draw a picture so that he, “would never forget his favorite-friend!!!”
Plus, he wrote him, “the saddest song ever” and played it on his recorder.
I am raising myself a little artist.
The tears lasted a long LONG time. I pulled out all my magic momma stops; I put on sweet music and danced with my boy, I scratched his back, we talked about all the things we loved about Hiya, (Cyclone’s things included: Hiya’s big heart, and how he “died for us”–OK, we are taking this a little far, buddy.) He called his cousins and talked to them on the phone. Hours of comfort.
But, no matter what I did, nothing calmed my boy down like his father coming home, ordering some pizza (even though they had already eaten dinner) and watching a superhero show.
I guess sometimes a boy just needs his daddy.
We are planning on burying him this morning. We thought we would give them a night to get used to the idea first.
Death is a big topic, full of intense emotions, I wish I could shield them from it forever. I realized last night that by the time I was my son’s age, my father had already been gone for 4 years. I was only a year and a half when he died. Wow.
Growing up with such an acute awareness of death definitely has its challenges, that’s the only area in which I pray that my babies will have a very different childhood from me.
Luckily, this experience with death is only a pet, and not a (human) family member. My babies are cutting their teeth on the tragic reality of life and I am SO grateful for the ease of this particular passing. Loosing a fish is much less confusing and life-changing then loosing a father.
And, if it took me hours to comfort my boy over this death, just imagine…
After he calmed down my son asked if he could pray for his fish, and while a lot of his prayer was dedicated to begging for his life, there were also moments of thanks as we expressed our gratitude for the experience of owning Hiya, and loving him for the past few years. Finding a little beauty in the middle of the sadness.
Goodbye, Hiya. You were a good pet.