Death Do Us Part 2

Now they were bringing even infants to him that he might touch them. And when the disciples saw it, they rebuked them. But Jesus called them to him, saying, “Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God. Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.” (Luke 18:15-17 ESV)

I was reminded this morning by a syndicated advice column in the paper of an episode that occurred about 20 years ago in our family. After transferring to Texas from Maryland, I took my two young daughters to pick out a kitten one Saturday from a farm that was giving them away. They chose a white one, which became named, naturally, Texas. Texas had different colored eyes and, in retrospect, may have been deaf; unfortunately, he didn't live long enough for us to be sure...

A few weeks after we brought Texas home, a loud screech and some screams woke up me and my wife. We went out front and discovered that Texas and a German Shepard across the street had been hit by a car. The cat was dead in the street and the dog-- which had apparently caught sight of Texas and must have chased him into the path of a passing car-- was yelping in pain...

Before our daughters got up (it was a school day), I buried Texas in a corner of our backyard and fretted over how to break the news to them. Our older daughter, probably about 8 years old, broke down and cried upon hearing the news. I took our youngest, probably 6, by the hand and showed her where I had buried Texas and while searching my adult mind for what to say to her, she spoke first. She told me quite matter-of-factly (and without shedding a tear) that "Texas is with Jesus." At that, I almost shed a tear at the faith of such a little child (see Luke 18:17).

What I read this morning has to do with the passing of another pet (yes, a cat). Here's the request for advice and the advice proffered by the columnist (my underlining):

[Letter] A few days ago, one of our cats was struck and killed by a car. She is buried in the garden beside two other cats who were old and sick and had to be euthanized. One of our children, 6, is taking this hard (he was here when the other two died). Yesterday, he wrote each departed cat a note with a request that they write back, and he left the notes where they were buried. This morning, he was thrilled to find the notes gone and is convinced, and deeply hopeful, that the cats will write.

So my question is about how bad it might be, or what long-term harm it might cause, if the cats “write” back. No response might help teach about accepting the reality of death, or it could crush him. On one hand, if there were a note saying they miss him and such and that this is the one note they get to write before they have to move on, it would make him so happy. (I certainly would not go for a long-term correspondence with the dead cats.) On the other hand, this level of deception seems worse than Santa.

My wife and I are atheists, and although we don’t preach atheism to our children, we wouldn’t want such a note to become the fraudulent basis of religious faith. Especially, we worry about the emotional harm it might cause if he learns the truth of the note before he is old enough to understand why we did it. Any thoughts?

[Advice] I wouldn’t write back “from the cats.” Not that I think some terrible process would be set in motion if you did, but instead I think the best ways to cope arise from what is around us naturally, because those can be replicated when we need to cope again in the future. Stepping in here would just postpone your son’s chance to learn to manage his grief.

Again, I don’t see that as having terrible long-range consequences. However, in my experience, raising kids presents parents with almost daily opportunities to take a shortcut that postpones the harder stuff till later, which we opt for at our peril. So, whenever there’s an easy way to avoid taking a shortcut, avoid the shortcut.

In this case, “easy” isn’t so easy emotionally, but it is straightforward and, more important, accessible to a 6-year-old: Just say that people and animals that have died don’t speak or write like living people do. Instead they speak to us through our hearts and imaginations. That’s why people leave flowers and notes and gifts at graves, as he did for the cats — survivors say their part in a living person’s way. Then they get their answers through memories and good feelings and love.

Hmm. First of all, I feel for the parents who would write to an advice columnist about how to better acquaint their child with this concept of death (the pet cat is just the medium, no pun or double entendre intended). Such life experiences provide great teaching moments, regardless of age!

Secondly, and not meaning to sound at all snarky, where do passing cats "move on" to, anyway?

Lastly, the greater issue here is faith (really, the lack thereof). Whether the parents are aware or not, they have already and no doubt unwittingly created a "fraudulent basis of religious faith."

Given the facts as presented, I would say the notes weren't such a bad way for a 6-year old to cope. On the other hand, if the parents could have their hearts and minds opened enough to observe how adult believers trust in Christ and lean on His church in times of loss, they might be persuaded that there really IS a better Way.

(Maybe I should write an advice column?)