OMFG! ASHES?!
So yesterday, my cat died. When I picked up Kid from school, I had to tell her the sad news. I waited till we got home, of course. I’m not just some heartless bitch who tells her kid her cat dies and lets her cry it out in the back of the car. What do you take me for? Anyhow we got home and I said, “I have some sad news. While you were at school, Little Man got very sick, and he died.” Then we both sat on the couch and cried hysterically for about five minutes.
Then this happened:
Kid: (Through her tears) “C-c-c aaannn IIIIII have my iiiccceeeeccreeeammm sannnndwiichhhhh??” (We bought one for her this weekend but she’s been saving it.)
Me: “Of course you can.” I KNOW! I KNOW! Food issues, treating sadness with ice cream, bad bad. Whatever. I treated my sadness with half a bag of pretzel M&Ms and a glass of red wine after she went to bed, so take that!
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| This was Little Man. He was a bit of a dandy. |
Kid: “YES!” Stops crying immediately. Munches away on ice cream . “So, where is Little Man now?” Ok, this is tricky. I’m not religious. I don’t believe in heaven. When people in our lives have died I just tell her they go away to be with their friends forever and can’t come back. Which I guess is the same as heaven, but I’m not going to use the H word. Sorry. Instead of immediately taking that route, which I should have…..
Me: “He’s at the vet.”
Kid: “I thought he died. Why is he at the vet?”
Me: “Because he will be cremated and then we will get his ashes to bring home.” WTF is wrong with me? Seriously. She’s 5. Cremation? What? I don’t know I had this weird vision of us solemnly yet happily spreading his ashes in my garden this spring. IT WAS A ROUGH DAY, OK?
Kid: Stops eating ice cream. Looks at me horrified. “HIS ASHES? WHAT? I DON’T WANT HIS ASHES! THAT IS DEEEE-SGUSTING” (that’s how she said it, that’s how I’m spelling it). Thank Jebus didn’t ask me what cremation is. As far as I can tell, she has figured it out on her own. Cat is at the vet, they do something, he comes home ashes. We have a wood-stove, she gets the ash making process.
Me: “Well, I thought it would be nice if we could spread his ashes on the lawn.” It’s times like this I wish I had an assistant with a cattle prod, who could just shock me into shutting up.
Kid: “Mom, that’s gross. I’m not doing it. Keep his ashes away. Now, turn on Max and Ruby.”
Me: “Please.”
Kid: “Please.”
Maybe we won’t spread him on the lawn. Maybe I can convince Hubby to let me send his ashes away to be turned into a diamond ring.
shoot him out of a cannon down at pemaquid light house.
Holy shit. I can't stop laughing. And my assistant isn't here to make me stop. I'm sorry. Blame it on the fucking assistant. I'll fire her tomorrow…if she shows up, which isn't likely.
Holy shit! That would be awesome. However, I think it would end up more like the Donny in the coffee can situation from Big Lebowski.
Oh my gosh. It's even more hilarious that the Google ads running down your klog right now are things like: "Scattering of Ashes at Sea", "Low Cost Cremation" and "Ash Holder Necklaces." I think you definitely should look into the latter.
I think its ok to talk to her about that stuff. In my opinion, you shouldn't shelter children away from things like death. You don't have to be extremely blunt, but approach it delicately. As far as spreading his ashes, maybe you could tell her about paying respect to his life by taking the ashes to his favorite spot and spreading them along with saying some nice things about your kitty and remembering your favorite times with him. Allowing her to shrug it off and eat ice cream and watch tv without a little more discussion about the situation is a little weird though. Maybe ask her what she thinks about death and where people go when they pass…
I'm not trying to shelter her from anything. I simply chose not to present the idea of Heaven as a place dead people go to my kid. That said, I'm also not going to push her into a discussion about death either. We've had plenty of discussion about it. She's lost two great grand parents, another cat, fish, chickens, etc. As far as letting her eat ice cream and watch TV instead of engaging in a long, discussion about death, go me! She's 5.