by Cassidy Nunn | photo by Nunn Other Photography –
“Awwww, we don’t have any more animals,” my four-year-old daughter said sadly, kicking at the ground and pouting her lips as we walked to our laundry room together.
We’d just had to say goodbye to our older dog, Kieffer, that morning and almost two weeks to the day before that we’d said goodbye to our horse, Zappa. Just over a year before that, it was a heartbreaking goodbye to my father-in-law, her beloved Poppa. Talking about death and grief has unfortunately been a topic we’ve had to address with our older daughter from quite a young age.
“Kieffer and Zappa died,” she said matter of factly as she plunked herself down on the laundry room floor. Tears pricked at my eyes as I loaded the machine with the cover from our dog’s bed along with a stack of his “doggie towels.” I thought of how these towels used to cover him at night when he’d get cold, then how he’d attack them in the morning and throw them around the room, joyfully shredding them whenever we didn’t confiscate them quickly enough. I looked around the laundry room which had recently been taken over by all our animals’ “stuff.” There was a lot of it to sort through – 15 years’ worth of items. Stacks of my horse’s blankets, buckets filled with various products and his saddle sitting lonely in a corner, propped up against the freezer. Now I was about to add all our dog’s items to the pile. I began a mental checklist of what I should try to sell, what could be given away or donated and what I should keep for any possible new additions to the family. Was it too early to even think about that? As if she read my mind, my daughter piped up, “Can we get another horse, Mama? And another dog? And a cat? I like cats.”
“We’ll see, sweetie,” I replied. The phrase “we”ll see” usually means “probably not” in our household, but this time I knew that although the losses were still so present, we’d definitely open our hearts to another pet. We were already missing our daily walks to visit our horse and bring him a carrot and give him a snuggle over the fence. The absence of our dog could be felt in the house – in the spattering of crumbs underneath my youngest’s highchair; he would have made short work of that cleanup. I still catch myself thinking I hear the click-clack of his toe nails on the floor and my daughter still asks “Is Kieffer coming with us in the truck?” before we gently remind her that he’s not here anymore. My youngest daughter is now 15 months old; she doesn’t understand about loss yet, or grief, but she still lights up and squeals every time she sees a photograph of our pets on the walls of our home. This often leads to us reminiscing or telling a story about them. In talking about all the loved ones we’ve lost, as painful as it can be, it keeps their memory alive and present. We celebrate their life and love this way with our girls.
While we still have sad days, we’ve been looking for the “glimmers” in each day, those special moments, however big or small, that make you feel gratitude, joy, peace or happiness. With two kids in the house, grieving can sometimes feel more difficult, but in many other ways, they offer plenty of these glimmer moments and reasons to laugh.
