Showing posts with label sad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sad. Show all posts

Sunday, September 11, 2011

This is my song, oh God of all the nations,
A song of peace for lands afar and mine.
This is my home, the country where my heart is;
Here are my hopes, my dreams, my sacred shrine.
But other hearts in other lands are beating,
With hopes and dreams as true and high as mine.

My country’s skies are bluer than the ocean,
And sunlight beams on cloverleaf and pine.
But other lands have sunlight too and clover,
And skies are everywhere as blue as mine.
Oh hear my song, oh God of all the nations,
A song of peace for their land and for mine.

May truth and freedom come to every nation;
may peace abound where strife has raged so long;
that each may seek to love and build together,
a world united, righting every wrong;
a world united in its love for freedom,
proclaiming peace together in one song.




Sunday, March 27, 2011

Off to the Great Fishbowl in the Sky

It is with a surprisingly heavy heart that I report the passing of Swimmy, Kiddo's pet goldfish.  Swimmy's life came to an end at approximately 4:45 this afternoon.  I can be that specific because we'd spent the day on Piscine Death Watch, keeping vigil over the tank in Kiddo's room.

I'd noticed Swimmy seemed a bit off a few days ago when I was in Kiddo's room putting away laundry.  You see, Swimmy's typical response to catching sight of any movement in the room was to begin swimming frantically back and forth at the top of the tank in a bid to get fed (or, more accurately, fed again as Swimmy was indeed fed first thing every morning).  The other morning, however, Swimmy ignored me, choosing to stare morosely at the bottom, back corner of the tank.  I waved my hand in front of Swimmy's face, which would ordinarily elicit a response, but nothing.  I mentioned this to Hubby but he said he wasn't worried because Swimmy had been swimming and splashing (did you know goldfish like to jump? True story!) as per usual when he was reading to Kiddo at bedtime.

When we got home from church this morning, Kiddo went up to her room to change and immediately came back downstairs to get us.  "Something's wrong with Swimmy!!!" Uh oh.  Sure enough, Swimmy was sideways and sort of hovering near the top of the tank.  Swimmy did not look good.  Kiddo was really upset, to say the least, and asked us if we could take Swimmy to the vet, which, um, no.  Hubby did a 25% water change, removed all the decorative plants and vacuumed the gravel in the tank, which turned up a lot of uneaten fish flakes and led us to the conclusion that Swimmy had not been eating for at least a few days.  Double uh oh.  Hubby helped Kiddo add a dose of Stress Coat to the tank water, and then we waited and watched.  I was hoping for a miracle but not holding my breath.

Since it seemed a foregone conclusion that Swimmy was not long for this world (and sure enough, the end came within hours), we were faced with helping Kiddo through one of life's Big Lessons.  You see, we have been very fortunate in our family not to have experienced much death in recent years.  Since Kiddo was born in 2003, our only losses have been her great-grandmother (my grandmother), who died when Kiddo was 18 months old, and our old cat, Katie, who died when Kiddo was just two and a half.  She has no memories of those experiences, so in fact this pet goldfish (of no great significance in the grand scheme of things) was about to be her first true personal experience with death.

And this is why I am sad.  Not because I will particularly miss the fish.  I'm not especially fond of fish as pets (and after all, Swimmy did try to kill me) or really any pet smaller than, say, a guinea pig (and Hubby has put his foot down that we will emphatically *not* ever be getting a guinea pig).  I prefer pets with which one can interact, ideally a cat or dog.  No, I'm sad not because of Swimmy's passing, but because of Kiddo's devastation.  I know it's the circle of life and all that, and it is a lesson she needs to learn (and she did understand the concept of death in theory prior to today), but man, it is just so hard to have to witness her heartbreak and grief, even over something as inconsequential as a goldfish.

Kiddo opted for a ground burial over an aquatic burial (which is a good thing considering Swimmy's size - I feared a burial at sea would wind up with a plumber's bill for a backed up sewage line due to his rather impressive corpse) and so Hubby dutifully dug a hole in the front garden, right by the house.  Kiddo wrote a small memorial (and the tear splotches on the paper broke my heart anew):






and we tucked it into the grave with Swimmy.  Once Hubby had finished filling the grave back in, we placed a special stone on top of it, given to us by Kiddo's beloved kindergarten teacher -


because it seemed fitting.  I told Kiddo that we can buy a plant to put there too, once the planting season starts.  She likes the idea of Swimmy having flowers.

And there you have it.  Swimmy, the ginormous, carnival fish who scared large dogs and Mommies alike.  From humble beginnings







to more elaborate digs





and with a brief moment of international fame when Swimmy was a finalist in a photo competition and thus was featured on the Simon's Cat website:


Swimmy made my kid happy for four years of her childhood, and that means a lot, even if Swimmy was just a fish.

(I should note that Kiddo is already asking for another goldfish.  I mean, what she really wants is a dog, but unless the Invisible Fence Fairy pays a visit to our back yard and makes it possible to be able to let a dog out to do his/her business without requiring a human to get dressed, leash the dog up and take it out for a walk every single time it has to go, a puppy isn't happening this year.  So, we've talked about it and have agreed we'll get another fish soon...)

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

A truly remarkable woman

Earlier this evening, a dear friend of mine, with whom I worked years ago, sent me a link to a newspaper article about a woman who had just passed away.  She sent me this link because we knew this woman back when we worked together at Syracuse University.  This woman, Kathy Urschel, was a graduate student at SU then, and worked in our office for a while as a graduate assistant.  At the time (this was the early 90s), Kathy and I became friends.  We'd have lunch together when schedules permitted and we'd certainly chat (I've always been a talker - and so was Kathy!) a lot whenever she was in the office as well.  She was a hoot, funny and quick-witted and had a keen sense of observation that could leave me rolling in laughter in an instant.

Eventually, I left Syracuse, got married, moved around and lost touch with Kathy somewhere along the way.  I still thought of her from time to time over the past 16 years, and at one point (still in the early days of the internet and email) exchanged letters with her to reconnect and catch up.  Even with the passing of time since we last were in touch, I was greatly, greatly saddened to read this beautifully written article about my former friend when it arrived in my inbox tonight.  You see, Kathy Urschel was, simply put, one of the most amazing people I've ever known.  I found the following video clip that sums up her story, in her own words, better than I ever could:




The last time I saw Kathy was the summer before my wedding.  We had lunch together, picking up sandwiches from the place next door to my office and eating them on a bench on SU's main quad.  We basked in the sunshine of that midsummer day.  We talked about wedding plans and she asked me all about my newly chosen wedding dress.  It was the week before I was leaving Syracuse, and we promised each other we'd keep in touch.  Tonight, I'm left wishing I had taken the time to track her down and catch up again, now that it is too late.  Just a few months ago, I was telling my daughter about her and the thought crossed my mind to Google her and try to track her down.  I added it to my mental list of things to do and never got around to it.  Please, if you have a few minutes, read about Kathy's life and accomplishments.  She was such a remarkable human being, and I'm proud to say that she once was my friend.

Rest in peace, Kath. 

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Tug, tug, tug

Will it ever stop tugging at my heartstrings to see my kid taking her leave of me?

Don't get me wrong - I am perfectly happy to let her go. Thrilled, most mornings. I couldn't wait for her to leave this morning, as she was cranky and copping a major attitude. I can confidently assure you of my heartfelt wish that the bus arrive NOW after an hour and a half of the eye rolling, selective hearing (seriously: she was looking right at me as I clearly and crisply enunciated the words "Please clear your plate right now" and all she did was continue to look at me, utterly blankly, as though my mouth had not just opened and her native language poured forth) and "Whatevering" that was tossed my way, not to mention the hands on the hips, dramatically heaved sighs coupled with mutterings under her breath and the occasional "Mo-ooom!" for that final, finishing touch to completely stomp all over my very. last. nerve. Hoo boy, was I ready for her to head off to school and leave me in the relative peace and quiet of the house.

And yet... watching those skinny, little legs poking out from under the ginormous, Princess backpack disappear up the steps and onto the bus, and then seeing the tiny, tiny hand waving goodbye and flashing the "I Love You" sign out the window, even as her face turned away and she began merrily chatting with her seatmate.... tug, tug, tug on the heartstrings once again. Gets me every time.

So, she's in first grade now. I'll be totally over the tugging at the heartstrings by middle school, right? High school? College? *sniff* I'm the tiniest bit afraid I won't be, and also the tiniest bit afraid that I will.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Need a little favor...

Hey gang, while I've been navel-gazing over here on my blog, my dear friend Coco has been having Serious, Bad Things happening in her life, which she just blogged about here. So, if you can do me a little favor, please pop over to her blog, leave her an encouraging word or three and say a prayer for her and her mom if you are of the praying sort? I'd appreciate it - she could use all the support and prayers she can get right now.

Thank you! And please remember to give your loved ones a big hug and tell them that you love them, or pick up the phone and tell them you love them if they're not close enough to hug. Life is too short...

Saturday, September 27, 2008

RIP Paul Newman

I just sat down at the computer for the first time since early this morning and read all the headlines and learned that Paul Newman died yesterday. (CNN's obituary here.) He was one of my favorite actors, and his philanthropic efforts and the way that he led his life are a lesson many of today's "celebrities" could very much stand to learn... He truly was a great man, just a real, true, honest-to-goodness class act.

In the words of his daughters, "
Always and to the end, Dad was incredibly grateful for his good fortune. In his own words: 'It's been a privilege to be here.’ " That kind of sentiment sure seems rare in today's celebrity culture - heck, in today's world altogether.

Rest in peace and thanks for everything, Paul Newman...