The last time I got a pet and it died, I vowed I would never involve myself again in that kind of grief. The years have slipped by and I still pat dogs and cuddle kittens, but they are not mine … no way, the last lost puppy nearly did me in.
But a widow’s house is lonely. Sure, the TV is great company but I needed something alive, something that I could say hello to when I came in the door, something that was no trouble … so I settled on two goldfish.
The “feeders” in the tank were all bright and shinning, flitting here and there, full of enthusiasm. Surely they would add a little sparkle to the living room. So, I bought two. At thirty nine cents each it was a small investment. The bowl was $10.00. But then I compared it to the structure that housed me and really, it is all relative isn’t it?
I named them Elmer and Fudd (a family joke) and followed the feeding and care directions on the folder the pet shop salesgirl had given me.
They were sure a lazy couple of fish and only swam about when the noise of company woke them. Then I noticed one had a slight lean to the left … poor Fudd, he was obviously not well and Elmer sat close by hardly moving at all.
It was with little surprise and no tears I found Fudd floating on the top of the water the next morning. I gently netted him and he joined other proteins in my garbage.
Elmer, who had barely moved for days, was now cavorting without the slightest sign of grief and he has continued to carry on, completely happy with his single life style.
I try to find a message in all this. David was inconsolable during his small son’s illness, yet after his death, he left behind his grief and continued on. Elmer somehow felt the same way and I guess I have been asked to do the same thing.
I will never stop mourning the loss of the man I loved but like my little fish, I still have to go on living in my goldfish bowl. When the minister said “’Till death do you part”, I never gave it a thought … but now I am living that phrase. I find as the months slip by there is change, loneliness and grief but each day has its’ own promise and there is still a lot of living left to do.
