That goldfish I mentioned about six inches down? He didn’t make it.
I took Alden to the grocery store so Damon could, ahem, take care of business. When we got home he told me he got wrapped up watching The Karate Kid and forgot. I’m upstairs now, having just put Elliot down. I hope everything is resolved when I get back down there.
Poor goldfish. I hope he didn’t suffer.
I wanted Damon to take care of it while we were gone because I didn’t want Alden to find him shoulder deep in the tank trying to take out the body. Here’s the thing: I really don’t want to talk to Alden about this at all.
When Zoe died I put on my big-girl pants and told him. He made me expain over and over about how Zoe was very old and that her body stopped working. And how she was never coming back. He held his hand over my mouth while I talked, his buffer against uncomfortable news. Each time was a little torture as I blinked back tears and tried to distill this loss of my 22-year-old cat to my 2-year-old boy. I didn’t want to lie to him. I didn’t talk about rainbow bridges or kitty heaven.
Then a few months later I got to tell him my dad died. That actually went down a little better. He didn’t know my dad well, and now had experience with the concept. He was mostly distressed by how sad mommy was. Still is. And I still have to endure that shock of grief every time my well-meaning boy walks up to pat my hand and say, “Don’t worry Mommy. Grandpa will come back soon.” Sometimes when we leave for school he asks my why Grandpa’s car is in our garage.
So I don’t want to talk about the goddamn goldfish. Enough. Enough of these conversations.
I’m going to put Alden to bed in about half an hour. The fish tank sits on a chest in our bedroom and we usually take a few moments to admire White Orange while we drift off to sleep. I could get very lucky and he might not look over there tonight. And them maybe he will forget we need to feed the fish in the morning. It’s possible both of those things will happen and I’ll get a reprieve. If they don’t, I have no idea what I’m going to say.
Posted by travellight on November 8, 2010 at 2:03 am
My sister-in-law told my niece that the cat went to Hollywood because she panicked. Now Kara thinks her cat starred in the latest Shrek.
I’m sorry your grief keeps standing up And waving at you.
Posted by Anonymous on January 22, 2011 at 4:09 am
I clearly joined too late to know what happened. Poke your head into lj on occasion, k?