Jingle Bells, who had become ill but with feline leukemia, was put to sleep in my mom's arms. My mom wrapped her in a pink blanket and buried her in a shoebox coffin. Pearl, who had also become ill but with hyperthyroidism, died in his sleep in my parents' basement. My mom built a coffin for him out of pizza boxes - he LOVED to lick the bottom of pizza boxes - and buried him next to Jingles. Duke was hit by a car a block from my parents' home. My mom identified and collected his remains at the Streets Department office, then brought him home buried him next to Pearl and Jingles. And lastly, Clementine, who was until recently suffering from an incurable fungus, was put to sleep in my mom's arms and is now buried next to those who journeyed to Cat Heaven ahead of her.
|Clemmy's final resting place and her soon-to-bloom flowers.|
Pain is a necessary part of life; after all, without pain we could not know or understand joy. But as mothers - and fathers - we naturally want to shield our children from as much hurt as possible. My mom did that for me, and I will do the same for Will and Hallie in the months and years ahead.
"Every mom has a mission: to love, guide, and protect her family. Don't mess with her while she's on it."
~ Vicki Reece