Elmo spent the good part of his life out in our upstairs hallway, lighting the nighttime trips to the potty. But, his final residence in the Bazzocco family house was the graduation back into Avery Mae's room. She was given another chance at five years of age to prove she was responsible to have Elmo share her bedroom once again. Avery did fantastic! Never "testing the waters" again. Even growing in her awareness, the responsibility of feeding the little guy each night at bedtime. Elmo was our friend. Elmo was Avery's friend. He was her bedroom buddy and his little presence made bedtime seem a bit easier.
Over the past few weeks, we had been noticing Elmo performing strange swim strokes, such as the side stroke, the slow stroke and well... just seeming peculiar. Aren called it, I quickly brushed it off after a quick assessment and observation of him swimming like speed lighting from one end of the tank to the other. Secretly in the back of mind, hoping all was really well. All did seem well...until early afternoon Monday. When Avery and I walked into her bedroom for "quiet time", I reached onto the dresser to grab her clock and set her time, when I saw... all was not well. I was shocked! Poor Elmo! OH NO! My poor daughter! My mind raced as to what to do… tell her now, tell her later, I can't leave her in her room to discover him herself, what do I do!? I quickly put the clock back up in front of the fish tank and asked Avery to come over to me. While praying for the right words, I gently let her know that her little Elmo had died. Immediate shock was on her little face, paralyzing my mother's heart for a moment and forever touching me, then immediate tears began to fall from her sweet face. I quickly scooped her up, held her tight and carried my big 45+ pound, 5 year old down the stairs and rocked her like my little baby that she will always be. As we sat in the rocking chair, she wept, I wept, and I prayed feverishly for God to help me with this. Despite the journey in life I have been through, I was in unchartered waters and was feeling so ill-equipped for this poignant moment. A moment in my mother eyes that could forever shape my sweet daughters view of death, grief and coping. So while I rocked her... many thoughts came to me. Experiences as a previous Child Life Specialist and working with children and talking with them about death and dying... countless past conversations Avery and I have already had in her asking and understanding her big sisters death... and my own experiences of loss as both a child and adult... all came flooding in. I had visions of my childhood and how my mother supported me through losing numerous beloved pets, family members and even young friends...and how she encouraged us to be a part of the process of saying goodbye and remembering them too. Death, loss and grief are no strangers to me, where I once turned from them and ran from the awareness of them... I'm trying more to face them and I'm still learning to accept they are a part of life. Fear them not, OH NO... I still fear them, the sting, the finality, the mind numbing blow, but I find comfort and solace in knowing that I have a Father in heaven who tells me that there is a place far better than this place. A place where He has gone before me and is preparing a place for me, for my loved ones, who believe in Him, in Christ. Heaven is real! It is not fictional, it is not false, make believe or folk-lore. It is a real place and I rest in knowing and believing it is our final home, our final destination . Some have asked, for pets too? Well, not sure. The Bible does have scripture that makes me wonder, but I have not been able to clarify to say with accuracy. In Isaiah 11:6-8 (NIV) it tells us that, "The wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat, the calf and the lion and the yearling together; and a little child will lead them. The cow will feed with the bear, their young will lie down together, and the lion will eat straw like the ox. The infant will play near the hole of the cobra, and the young child put his hand into the viper's nest." If I am understanding this correctly this is scripture from the prophet Isaiah who is talking about the "New Earth" after Christ comes back... how Christ will restore this world to a state/place like Eden. Either way, heaven is a place where no man has seen... but if God created animals here for man to have dominion over and because He is all knowing, He knew we would befriend them, not just use them to subside off of, but fall in love with and live together with, bond with. This is not scripturally sound, but I can't help but believe our pets are in heaven too. But hey who knows? God is good...all the time, so why not with something like that too. Avery often asks me are animals in heaven? Like the taxidermied (is that a word?) steer that she saw at Breakaway at church last year. OH BOY!!! Did that ever create confusion in her little mind: "is it alive, was it alive, is it dead, why is it not in heaven, why is it's body still here, why isn’t it buried"... thanks Breakaway "décor staff" for making the concept of death even more confusing for my child and more challenging for me as a mom to explain. :) Just kidding. But I have told Avery, "I am not really sure, since I've never seen heaven, but I tell her why not?" Heaven is a place of perfection, glory... goodness and surely all good things that God created are there, she even asks do we eat or drink in heaven? Ugh!? Someone needs to write a book on how to answer these very specific preschooler questions, hey maybe I'll take that on some day… in my spare time!
Anyways, after about 45 minutes of rocking, my little heartbroken child fell asleep in my arms. I laid her on the couch so she could sleep. Meanwhile my other sweet child, Ben refused to nap in his crib, he missed his entire nap that day! First time ever! Not sure what that was all about, but hey the day was already not going so well, let's just pour salt on it and watch it festure!!!! So while Ben and I played upstairs quietly, Avery slowly woke up. After calling out to me, she refused to come upstairs. I was thinking she did not want to be near Elmo. I felt sad for her fear and discomfort, but understood that was ok and normal for her to feel that way.
After some more cuddling time with both kiddos... Avery began to ask more questions. One that nearly stopped my heart for a moment. "Momma, when Payton died... did you bury her at the cemetery where we go?" GULP, I wasn't sure why that was so tender for me to hear, it wasn't like we hadn't had this conversation before as we have visited Payton's grave over her 5 years of life. But to hear it in that moment and to see how she was beginning to connect the “death dots”, it was quite uncomfortable for me to hear. But I did what any good mom would do, I quickly prayed for wisdom and the right words, took a quiet deep breath and simply said... "Yes baby we did, remember how we have told you Payton's little heart was not able to work well any more... because it was sick... well her little body couldn't work any more either because it needed her heart to help it be alive... and her little soul... the part that is inside of you that makes you feel, think, talk, laugh and be who you are... that part went to heaven... so when that happened it was time for us to have her funeral" and well, that spilled into numerous other questions: "how did you bury her, in what, what did the casket look like, and on and on...” All the time she was asking one question after another so quickly I could hardly catch my breath from the previous question. I tried to strike a healthy balance of what to say and what not to say and how much is enough, but not too much. I tried to turn the questions back to her sometimes, like "Well what do you think baby?" And there were even several questions I just had to say, "I don't know the answer to that... only God knows". I also tried to assure her of her good health, our good health and our other pets good health and that no one, most importantly her, did anything wrong to cause Elmo to die, it is just what happens. It was quite a powerful talk we had.
After our conversation, Avery said to me... "Mommy, I want to bury Elmo and have a funeral for him". So we made our way to Joanne's craft store and bought a little brown wooden box with hearts on it, pink and red paint, pink and red ribbon (cause pink she said is her favorite color and “red was Elmo’s”) and some sparkling rhinestones to adorn his box with. We came home and she went right to work. It was amazing to see how she was responding to her efforts in doing this last loving act for her beloved fish friend. She sat and smiled while designing it and frequently pointed out to me each little step she was making. When she was done she asked me how to write, "Elmo... love you really much". Truly priceless, straight from the mouth of babes. It made me think about how healing a funeral or memorial can be for someone who loses someone or something that they love. The acts of the experience bring about healing, connection, celebration, honoring, and letting go...saying goodbye to the one loved and lost. All throughout history, until more present day, families who lost a loved one were responsible for burying there loved ones in different ways than we do today. In doing so, it was often the men of the family that built the casket for the deceased. It was often described as a final act of service of love and depending on the financial status of the family; the caskets would often be built in great detail to exemplify ones love and grief. So... moving away from my tangent... Avery Mae lovingly made her little fish friends final resting place.
After dinner, Avery and I headed off to her first ever Daisy Girl Scouts meeting. She didn't want to miss it and I gave her the choice of staying home or going. She chose going and it was a nice distraction from the day. She met some new little girl friends, learned the Girls Scouts Pledge and planted some marigold seeds. Then we headed home with the plan to have Elmo's final farewell. We gave Avery some choices of when and where to bury Elmo. She chose at night after Ben was in bed, just her, Aren and I, outside on the side of the house by our garden. Daddy dug the hole, while Avery and I prepared little Elmo. Avery asked to use the net to get Elmo out... but then after attempting, anxiously handed it over to me. Bless her heart. While I "fished" him out, Avery carefully lined his little box with tissue so Elmo had something soft to lie on. We laid him in his soft little box and said our goodbyes and closed the box. Avery asked to put his box in the hole, so we let her, and then I said a prayer of love, thanks and healing over Avery. Aren covered Elmo's box with the dirt, then Avery decorated it with flowers she had picked from around the yard. All done by the light of the moon and a single flashlight! I am sure my neighbors were wondering what in the world we were doing.
Then we headed on in and started her bedtime routine. Avery was seeming more like her little self by that point... bouncing from point A to point B as usual, and talking non-stop. But in her little eyes I could still see a little grieving girl. It was breaking my heart. She continued to ask questions about why and how Elmo died and I continued to try to comfort her in my answers. And like she does every night, talked me into cuddling up beside her in bed till she fell asleep. Only this time, I wisely stayed, knowing her little heart really was not wanting to be alone. I laid there beside her, talking with God for quite some time. Thanking Him for the comfort He has given me in my life of 35 years at moments of loss, so that I may comfort others in their times of loss (2 Corinthians 1:4)... family, friends, strangers, but most importantly my sweet child.
It has been 3 days since our Elmo friend went to "Fishy heaven", which is what Avery calls it. The day that Elmo died she told me she wanted to get another fish "that day and a red one like Elmo". I explained to her that another fish will not replace our friend Elmo and that someday we can get another fish, but we need a little time to go by before we do that. She smiled and skipped off. But the grand-daddy of all questions was asked today, "Mommy...if we buried Elmo in the ground... in his box... how come we didn't flush him down the toilet... where all the other fish go to, to get to fishy heaven in the sea... like on Nemo!" UGH! Great more explaining to do!
Enjoy this little clip from The Cosby Show... on how "NOT" to perform a fish funeral for your preschooler... I just love this show!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jo_bn2blWSY
