Dealing With Death in an Atheistic Home
Every school day starts out the same way in our house. I go into my son's room, turn on the lights and count the toads, one, two, three. I don't know about other people's firebelly toads, but ours, Skin'O, King Edward, and Kermit should all be named Houdini. So every morning, if it is going to be a good morning I count, one, two, three toads.
Last year I walked into my son's room. I flipped on the lights and I counted one, two....one, two. Oh no one, bloody two. I looked around my son's room. Legos and blocks as far as the eye could see. Upturned trains and...when exactly did he wear all those cloths? His room was a big mess! Some nights he can't sleep so he gets up and, I guess he would say he builds but I say he destroys his room.
I woke him up carefully so he popped right up and shouted, "What's wrong!"
"Nothing, it just looks like Kermit escaped last night. Watch where you step and go make yourself cereal so I can find Kermit."
"Oh no mom he is the baby! King Edward gets out all the time but she is fine (don't ask). She knows what she is doing. Oh Kermit" my son sobbed.
"I'll find him, Go get your breakfast."
The morning was a mad blend of helping my son get ready, cleaning his room and hunting for the wayward toad. By the time I got him safely on the buss he was on emotional thin ice and I was frazzled. Luckily that was a work at home day so I devoted the entire morning and much of the afternoon to toad search and rescue although by noon it was clear I was looking for a body. I found it, poor thing and wrapped it in a plastic bag.
I picked my son up from afterschool. He was waiting at the front door and I could see from his face that the school day was a total loss. The first thing he said when he saw me was what we all know he was going to say, "Did you find Kermit?"
"I found him," I said as I guided him out the door. His face fell because he knew from my voice it was not good. He was able to hold it together until he got into the car. "I'm sorry baby." He was inconsolable and my heart broke.
We got in the house and he said very calm and firm, "I want to see the body."
"OK." I took him upstairs and got the plastic bag from the back porch.
"You put him in a grocery bag Mom." It was an accusation not a question.
"Just to keep him until we can bury him" I carefully unwrapped the bag and let him see the little dead toad. He began sobbing again. It was terrible to see him in such distress. We had lost pets before and though it had always been sad he always seemed to take it in his stride. Kermit's death was overwhelming him.
"He was just a baby. He didn't know any better. He never go to do anything. (Never mind Kermit was doomed to a life of sitting in his cage eating worms and crickets. Doing anything was never on his life path)." My son stared at the little body sobbing his eyes out. He was in full on messy cry with soaking wet cheeks and snot gleaming down his chin.
I folded up the bag. Set the toad aside and hugged my son. Then I began reaching for straws. "It is ok honey. Kermit will be reborn and get a new life."
My son pushed off me, stopped sobbing and looked me dead in the eyes, "Are you saying he will come back to life as something else?"
"No not exactly. Some people think the soul will be reborn into another body and..."
My ten year old stared me into silence. He raised one eyebrow and gave me that assessing look that will one day make his employees quake with fear. "Mommy Kermit is dead." He dissolved into tears again.
It was heart braking so I reached for the only other straw I could think of, "He is in a better place now...."
"Mom please," he cut me off with no small amount of disgust in his voice, "are you talking about Heaven?"
"Well I.."
"Kermit is dead!"
Out of straws I did the only thing I could do. I held my son and let him sob. I used my shirt to wipe tears and snot from his face so his sensitive skin would not be hurt. Eventually the flood was over. I was able to change my shirt and we eased into an evening of quiet punctuated with bouts of sobbing. He could not bear to go into his room because there was one too few toads in the cage. Over and over in the quiet moments I wondered if somehow raising him without a belief in the after life had somehow robbed him of an essential tool for dealing with grief.
After supper my father and my son went out to burry Kermit. I don't know why but that is the way we do things in our house. My mom and I prepare the lost pet's body and at twilight my father and son go out to burry them. It is tradition and like all good traditions I don't know where it came from. It just feels right to us.
When they came back in my son was changed. His step was lighter and for the first time that day he was smiling. "Are you ok?" I asked.
"Of course." He gave me the stop asking questions mom look. I ignored it.
"Feeling better about Kermit?" Yep I poke at wounds. I can't help it. It is a compulsion to find out how healed they are.
"His atoms are back in the Earth now."
"And that makes it feel better?"
"It's the circle of life mom. Can we get another toad?"
"No I think two is plenty."
We went on with our night and our life. I realized that my little guy had really good tools for dealing with grief. He could be sad and sob. He was not afraid to feel the pain and when it was done he could let it go. It was the permanence of matter that filled him with a since of oneness and completeness. He had devised a simple and elegant comprehension of what it is to live and die.
Several months later and another typical morning. One...one...oh bloody no just one. That morning went just the way the other morning did, messy room and all. That time I spent all day cleaning the room and I never found the missing toad. I was in a panic. What would happen without a body to burry. Could his grades handle another day of lost homework? I hopped in the car and speed off to the pet store.
We now have a new toad cage that the little buggers can't get out of and one of our toads is an imposter.
I picked my son up from afterschool. He was waiting at the front door and I could see from his face that the school day was a total loss. The first thing he said when he saw me was what we all know he was going to say, "Did you find Kermit?"
"I found him," I said as I guided him out the door. His face fell because he knew from my voice it was not good. He was able to hold it together until he got into the car. "I'm sorry baby." He was inconsolable and my heart broke.
We got in the house and he said very calm and firm, "I want to see the body."
"OK." I took him upstairs and got the plastic bag from the back porch.
"You put him in a grocery bag Mom." It was an accusation not a question.
"Just to keep him until we can bury him" I carefully unwrapped the bag and let him see the little dead toad. He began sobbing again. It was terrible to see him in such distress. We had lost pets before and though it had always been sad he always seemed to take it in his stride. Kermit's death was overwhelming him.
"He was just a baby. He didn't know any better. He never go to do anything. (Never mind Kermit was doomed to a life of sitting in his cage eating worms and crickets. Doing anything was never on his life path)." My son stared at the little body sobbing his eyes out. He was in full on messy cry with soaking wet cheeks and snot gleaming down his chin.
I folded up the bag. Set the toad aside and hugged my son. Then I began reaching for straws. "It is ok honey. Kermit will be reborn and get a new life."
My son pushed off me, stopped sobbing and looked me dead in the eyes, "Are you saying he will come back to life as something else?"
"No not exactly. Some people think the soul will be reborn into another body and..."
My ten year old stared me into silence. He raised one eyebrow and gave me that assessing look that will one day make his employees quake with fear. "Mommy Kermit is dead." He dissolved into tears again.
It was heart braking so I reached for the only other straw I could think of, "He is in a better place now...."
"Mom please," he cut me off with no small amount of disgust in his voice, "are you talking about Heaven?"
"Well I.."
"Kermit is dead!"
Out of straws I did the only thing I could do. I held my son and let him sob. I used my shirt to wipe tears and snot from his face so his sensitive skin would not be hurt. Eventually the flood was over. I was able to change my shirt and we eased into an evening of quiet punctuated with bouts of sobbing. He could not bear to go into his room because there was one too few toads in the cage. Over and over in the quiet moments I wondered if somehow raising him without a belief in the after life had somehow robbed him of an essential tool for dealing with grief.
After supper my father and my son went out to burry Kermit. I don't know why but that is the way we do things in our house. My mom and I prepare the lost pet's body and at twilight my father and son go out to burry them. It is tradition and like all good traditions I don't know where it came from. It just feels right to us.
When they came back in my son was changed. His step was lighter and for the first time that day he was smiling. "Are you ok?" I asked.
"Of course." He gave me the stop asking questions mom look. I ignored it.
"Feeling better about Kermit?" Yep I poke at wounds. I can't help it. It is a compulsion to find out how healed they are.
"His atoms are back in the Earth now."
"And that makes it feel better?"
"It's the circle of life mom. Can we get another toad?"
"No I think two is plenty."
We went on with our night and our life. I realized that my little guy had really good tools for dealing with grief. He could be sad and sob. He was not afraid to feel the pain and when it was done he could let it go. It was the permanence of matter that filled him with a since of oneness and completeness. He had devised a simple and elegant comprehension of what it is to live and die.
Several months later and another typical morning. One...one...oh bloody no just one. That morning went just the way the other morning did, messy room and all. That time I spent all day cleaning the room and I never found the missing toad. I was in a panic. What would happen without a body to burry. Could his grades handle another day of lost homework? I hopped in the car and speed off to the pet store.
We now have a new toad cage that the little buggers can't get out of and one of our toads is an imposter.
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