Archive for December, 2013

Sometimes life isn’t so exquisite.  Sometimes it down right stinks!

Today my son experienced one of those less than exquisite moments in life.  We went to check on his pet salamander, Dot and discovered Dot was no longer living.

He tried to hold back the tears but couldn’t keep his lip from quivering as he said, “It’s okay” and tried to be positive.  I knew he was trying to put on a brave front, but also knew he wanted to cry and just needed to be held.  I asked him if he was okay and put my arms around him and tears filled my eyes as the sobs that shook his body also shook mine.

This was not an exquisite moment for him.  This is probably the worst moment of his young life.  I know how sad I am each time I lose a pet…I can’t imagine what his little six-year-old brain is thinking, and what his little heart is feeling.

My Dear Sweet Boy,

I am so sorry for you loss.  Dot was the best blue spotted salamander that ever lived!  I know that you loved him.  You loved to hold him and watch his slimy little body wiggle about.

I remember the awe and excitement when you brought Dot home from Grandpa and Grandma’s in a peanut butter jar!

“Can I keep him, Mom?  Can I?” was too hard to turn down when your eyes were filled with such unabashed joy.

With love you built a home for Dot and took joy as he ate worms from your hand.  With love you scavenged for new rocks to put in Dot’s atrium.  With love you found the perfect leaves and sticks for foliage so Dot would feel like he was in the real outdoors.  With love you worked hard to keep your buddy, Dot, happy and comfortable.

I am sorry that Dot will no longer eat worms from your hand and that you’ll no longer be able to watch him wiggle and squirm around.  I’m going to miss the sweet little conversations I overheard you having with him.

As you cried in my arms, your body shaking with each sob and the tears streaming down your face and soaking my shirt, I was, and am, sorry that I can’t do anything to make the pain in your sweet little heart go away.  I’m sorry I can’t bring Dot back.

But what I can do is be here to hold you, to cry with you, to share in your pain.

When you asked me to sing to you as you cried on my chest the only song that came to mind is “It Is Well.”

And so as you cried I sang…

“When peace like a river attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll; whatever my lot, though has taught me to say, It is well, it is well, with my soul.”

I know, sweet boy, that it is not well with your soul, your sweet little heart, right now.  I know that you are hurting, confused, and probably mad right now.

But I also know that God is already working on healing that aching spot that currently swells with pain in your precious heart.  I know that your heart will heal and I pray that you will remember the wonderful times you had with Dot and hold them close and dear to you.

Keep looking for the perfect rocks for Dot, sweet son, for it will help you to remember the fun times you had with him.  Keep searching for the perfect rounded bark, and the perfect size climbing stick.  Even if Dot can’t use them here on earth, I’m sure he’ll be smiling down from heaven, enjoying how much you still think of him.

Dot’s in good hands, Buddy, and Christ will love on him until you can be together again.

Soon peace like a river will attendeth your way and it will be well with your soul again!

I love you my sweet son!


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