I hate death.
I hate it in all forms.
Even before death took my son, I hated it.
It took a grandfather I loved away from me. I saw it ravage the life of the boy I loved most in the world by taking his father away. It took one of my best friends because he didn’t get a heart/lung transplant in time and broke my heart.
I hate it.
Even when we are not talking about human life. I used to have such a tender heart as a child. I used to sob with my heart breaking in pieces over pets that died and dying animals that I tried to rescue.
Once I stayed up for two days straight nursing a flock of chicks my kindergarten-teacher mother brought home for her classroom. One little chick was very sickly and despite my constant effort, it died. I was so sad. I cried and cried on my bed, not realizing in my upset that I had left the door to the room with the chicks in it slightly ajar.
I cried myself to sleep.
My mom came into the room and told me that our cat had gotten into the room and had killed several of the chicks.
It. was. horrible.
I still remember the feeling in my chest.
I still feel wretched about it.
Yesterday, my friend Karen knocked on our door. We were all going to go see a matinee together. She piped up, “Wilbur attacked a little bird!”
We all ran to the door.
There was a tiny, feathered puff ball shivering on the porch.
Jon picked the bird up and didn’t see any visible injuries. Christopher and James were falling all over themselves to try and help.
They helped me find a box and line it with soft dishtowels. Christopher left a shallow saucer of water in the corner and stroked its feathered head trying to get it to stop shivering and calm down. We put didn’t have any bird seed, but I did have some Kashi 7 grain pilaf, that I thought might work.
Poor little thing.
I think, given the opening of this post, you can all tell where this is going, right?
Right.
Despite rallying enough to fly under my dishwasher, I just found it dead when I checked on it.
It looked so tiny laying there.
I am glad it was at least warm when it died.
Poor little thing.
I cried.
I got Jonathan and we decided that since the ground was frozen there was nothing to do but wrap it up and put it in the trash bin, which seems like a horrible place, but it’s the only real option that we have.
Here is the tough part:What do I tell my children?
Jon wants to tell them the truth.
While I agree with this most of the time, I am just LOATHE to do so in this case.
Before you bash me, can you at least hear my thoughts?
It is not like my kids do not know “The realities of life”. They definitely know that “Bad things happen” and that the happy ending often doesn’t materialize.
They had a very real and harsh lesson in those things when their brother died.
I’m not even coming close to comparing the two, but they have tender little hearts, too and it’s going to be hard on them.
And they have had an awful lot of “hard” in their young lives.
Far from showing them “The realities of life” I would like to just let them think that sometimes it freaking works out, you know? That the bird lived and is happily chirping on a branch somewhere with its bird family and having a grand time of it all.
I just can’t picture lying like that to them, though.
But I desperately want to.
Stumble it!
Filed under: 
Sadness! Poor little bird. I get what you mean. Let them have a little happiness and think some things work out well for heaven’s sake! But, I think if you tell them, difficult as it may be for them, it gives you a chance to help them work through it together. Just my 2 cents.
I think that, ultimately, you might feel worse if you lied to them about it, even though it seems like a good option now. I think that they will be able to handle it. They may have tender hearts, like their mother, but they are also strong like her.
ooh, loralee, this IS a tough one. i’m sorry for you guys…i’ve tried to rescue everything up to squirrels before and it’s never worked out.
i have to say, though, that i think jonathan, and your heart: “I just can’t picture lying like that to them, though.” have it right…they will be sad, sure, but they’ll also be able to trust you more, in the long run. (my mother always used to tell me that lies would always be uncovered, and in my life, that’s proven to be true.)
there will be other things that will work out that you can share with them….but maybe, just maybe, this could be another type of lesson. because death, as painful as it is, happens. for reasons good and bad, and i think hairyshoefairy is right.
Not that you should live your life by the advice of strangers on the internet, but I think you and Jon should present a united front on this. And, lies will be found out. I was oh so careful about what I said about Santa Claus. Sad, but true.
I say lie, or shall we call it a white lie.
“Boys – the bird flew away.”
Leave it at that and if they press you for an answer you can tell them it flew away and is happily chirping on a branch somewhere with Jesus, or Yahweh, or Muhammad, or Buddah, or John Travolta, or Big Bird.
I think that covers the major religions.
Whether or not you decide to tell your kids the truth, realize that they will learn that sometimes things DO work out.
I say tell the truth, but have Jonathan do it.
I suck at stuff like this.
I would tell them the truth and then plan a trip to Disneyland with them–it’s the year of a million dreams, after all… Help them see that when bad things happen, we can grieve and mourn, but we need to cntinue filling our lives with uplifting…fillers. (Okay, maybe Disneyland is too over-the-top for a bird, but you get the idea.)
Lie. Tell them the bird flew away. There’s enough crap for them to have to take in the world without adding the death of a little bird. Let them think that things sometimes work out.
I have no advice, I know just where you’re coming from.
I just wanted to say that though I’ve faced death I’ve never been confronted by it. In fact, not counting a couple of funeral viewings, my son was the first dead body I ever saw. But I never *discovered* anyone or anything dead. No pets or anything. And… just yikes. I don’t know what that might be like.
Do whatever you think you have to. Or, better yet, make your husband do it.
What a depressing blog!!!! Remember when “Sherbert” died, and I made you and Dan Kiester come over and we sang Sherbert’s song over his little body wrapped in a papertowel in a shoebox, then we ceremoniously tossed him in the dumpster?
I think you should get a shoebox, let the boys decorated it, (pretend you put the bird in there)and tell them the bird is in heaven with his grandma and grandpa birds! The kids would really enjoy decorating the box, and get closure as well. It also teaches them that it’s ok to talk about sad stuff, and life goes on!
I like Davie and Rachel’s idea- the bird flew away (to heaven if you must). You just make sure that no one tells them the truth under penalty of loss of free gropage of the magical boobies. And make sure that bird is hid well.
Given your history, I have no idea what you should do. I usually promote honesty. This makes me sad. :(
When I was a kid, our dog “ran away” one day. Much later, I learned that she had actually been put down, and I’m fine with that. If they’re going to freak out about it, I say lie. Find a similar bird in a tree and say, “Hey, there it is!”
I have no advice either. It’s so hard.
((HUGS))
Option 1: Pull out the “hand in glove” metaphor and speak kindly of our friend the bird.
Option 2: Lie through your teeth. Drown your guilt over this with 44 ounces of icy goodnes.
Option 3: Turn Mr. Sensitivity loose on it for some man talk. Somehow involve ice cream.
Option 4: Have a bucket of chicken for dinner and then tell them they’re actually eating a bird. Watch them freak out.
1, 2 or 3 should work out in the end …
Um… Your brother just cracked me up.
I vote for honesty, but I guess it depends on the day. The bird COULD have flown away.
Ugh. This is really tough. We just went through this exact same situation with my nephew. I see both sides of it definitely. My mom ended up telling my nephew that the bird had gotten better. I honestly don’t know what I would do. I’m sorry you have to deal with all that. =(
The Brother: That was just wrong – and I applaud you.
I am going to change my original solution to Option 4.
My only suggestion would be to use Cornish game hens.
many years ago Malia’s much loved and spoiled guinea pig, Wilbur died. Rod threw it in the trash. He told her that he buried it safely away in the back yard. She was devastated!!!! She was beside herself with grief and to just have him carelessly throw him away was unbearable. Wee a couple years ago she found out the truth, that he just tossed Wilbur in the trash. She was livid at him and hurt all over again. It had been 10 years. Tell them the truth. Tell them that the bird can now sing for Matthew, tell them anything, but do not lie to them.
Also please ignore item #4 from The Brother. That is just sick, funny, a little, but sick. tsk tsk tsk.
ps..knowing Jonathan, I’d say to not have him do the telling. Just remember the response to the question the other night, “I went to work, I came home”. Do not think the warm fuzzies the boys may need will come from him.
Listen, from the woman who just concocted an elaborate lie about the Binky Fairy and legions of poor, binky-less babies: I have no good advice. I do think your lie would be a far nobler one than mine.
I think I would tell them the truth…but it’s easy to say bedcause I don’t have kids.
I keep typing something then deleting it. I don’t know. I really don’t.
Part of me thinks: Obviously, you won’t be able to shield your kids from the reality of life and death–as they’ve already experienced losing a little brother, I’ll bet they’re leaps and bounds ahead of most kids on the “reality map” of maturity. But then I think, as a mom, you don’t want your words to bring tears, and would saying that it flew away be so bad?
I’m not a mama, but I know I’d be struggling with this, too.
Good luck. And I’ll send a prayer up to John Travolta & Big Bird (haha, Davie) that everything goes well.
I KNOW this is a really sensitive issue for you and your family, but I still think telling them the truth, or an age appropriate version of it is best. However, if you can’t do it without getting emotional, have Jon do it. Good luck, and let us know how it goes!
I don’t have children. Does this make my opinion a moot point? Who knows. What I do know is that you don’t need another trite remark about telling the truth or telling lies.
I think everyone deserves the truth regardless of how painful it might be, especially young people. Why? Because you’re building a foundation of learned behavior, fact and knowledge which they will eventually use to help them interpret the world for themselves.
I say tell them the truth. When I was 9 I had a beautiful little Shelty. We lived on a farm at the time and she would go in the chicken house and eat eggs! Dad tried to get her to stop by giving her an egg with Tabasco sauce in it. Next thing I knew, they told me she had run away!
Many, many years later, my dad admitted to me that he had shot her… I wish he would have told me the truth back then. It would have helped me accept so many things in my life…
When I was a child, I too brought home numerous beings beyond repair. One of them was a moth.
For years, I believed that I healed it and that it was finally strong enough to set free that day.
To this day, I cry when I think of my mom, each night, trapping a new moth to keep the power of magic alive for me.
It leaves too soon, you know.
And I don’t care what the books or experts say, I’d be finding a bird replacement or be pointing it out in the branches until they are old enough to know better. They will know better far too quickly; but you already know this.
LL.
Small child also knows what it’s like to lose someone to death. He lost his Grampa to cancer not that long ago.
A couple of years ago a small bird had fallen out of it’s nest. Small child came running to me, “Mom! We’ve got to save it. Please.” We took it to the vet.
They told me that they didn’t go out of their way to save that particular type of bird because of over-population (Small child was not privy to this conversation.) There was nothing we could do for it here at home, so we left the little guy there. Sigh.
A few days later small child asked me “what happened to the baby bird?” I told him that the bird got better, the vet set it free and it flew away. To this day small child still mentions how good it felt to “save that little bird.”
I say lie to them this time. You won’t regret it.
I didn’t.
Love you.
LL2
We just had to put down our 14 year old, very sick dog. It was 12 days ago. My 4 year old just, in the last couple of days, starting crying about missing him. We’d been fairly straightforward with him about his being sick and told him all about the rainbow bridge / doggie heaven, so he does get a sense of comfort from that, but honestly, if I could have gotten away with lying about it, I would have. His missing the dog is breaking my heart and I would have loved to have kept death from him for quite awhile longer.
normally, i never lie to my kids, but i have a confession: i lied to them when ace (our sick cat) died. i could NOT bring myself to tell them what had really happened.
i suck. i shoulda told the truth. but it wasn’t like ace got hit by a car…or died in her sleep. i would have told the truth if that were the case.
Sugarcoat the truth, this sounds like I’m a total robot with no emotions, but its about a bird so its not a huge deal if you sugarcoat the truth a little, you dont have to lie to them, just put a nice silver lining spin on it somehow.
I would have felt bad too…
I’d do exactly what you are doing, if I were in your shoes. Exactly.
It had never occurred to me to tell them anything but the truth. They see death all the time. All those nature shows when cheetah pounces on a gazelle, Meerkat Manor when one of the meerkats dies, when the gorilla died at the zoo, or the elephant. It a fact of life that everything will die at some point. So I’ve never sugarcoated it or told them that we sent the dog off to live at the Daisy Hill retirement home. In my opinion, I think that just does them a disservice. But I was never insensitive about it either. When grandpa died, when the dog died, when the other grandpa died, the the uncle died, we let them grieve and we let them celebrate the good memories of times spent.
Honestly, you know your boys the best. Everyone has their opinions on how to raise other peoples kids but you will always know what’s right for them at the time.
Sorry for the loss of your bird. Like you said at least he passe in a warm home with people trying to care for him.
It doesn’t seem like any choice is the right or easy one. I am so sorry.
I’m a coward so I am siding with the little white lie. The bird flew away.
Do whatever feels right for you though.
When I was 14 we took a bird in. All of the other birds left the nest, but that one just couldn’t fly. I felt bad, so I took it in the house. Although they’re small creatures with brains the size of a pin, it was really neat to see the chick grow trust in us and willingly come to us for food.
But alas, it was not to be. The chick couldn’t fly because it was sick, and died a few days later. Nature is sometimes cruel and doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, something you really can’t explain to a child. I wish there was a better explanation that that, but there isn’t.
God, I wish I’d read this sooner. As you well know, I am the harbinger of hamster death. I could totally have given you advice.