Hard Things

There's been something on my mind for several months now. I'm actually trying to "let go" and forget about it, but my 3 year old, Jaron, has an incredible memory and reminds me often.

The story is about our cat, Cooper. Well, our former cat. Cooper joined our family about 2 years before Jaron came along. In some ways, Cooper was my baby. He came into our home at a time in my life when I really needed him. He provided a lot of comfort, companionship, and entertainment (and of course, great mousing skills!). Cooper dealt reasonably well with the addition of Jaron to our family.

However, as Jaron grew older we started to have more and more problems with Cooper. Jaron as a typical 2 year old found it immensely amusing to pull Cooper's tail, sit on him, scream at him, and give him headlocks. Cooper would dutifully show his appreciation by biting Jaron. He started having more and more temper issues (as well as a few others) after Russell joined the family.

Last August, I made a difficult decision to turn him over to a couple that we knew. They were empty-nester's and I was hoping that Cooper would settle down in a situation where he was "the baby" again. It was really hard for me to do this and I, in particular, worried about Jaron's reaction.

I don't remember all the details, but the evening that I took Cooper away, Clark took the kids to the park and while they were gone I left with Cooper. I don't remember when Jaron noticed. Probably that night or the next day. It wasn't easy explaining to a 2 year old that his cat was gone. (Because let's face it, in his mind, it was his cat.) We just gently told him Cooper was visiting someone else for a while. At first, Jaron would ask about him frequently and then it became less and less.

In January, I found out, that the couple who had Cooper -- for various reasons -- had him put down. Maybe I'm too tender-hearted. I cried and cried. It didn't help that I was told this at church. Not many places to hide and mourn the loss of a pet. (Well, there is the mother's lounge, until someone comes in and looks at you crazy because you are in there crying like crazy and you don't even have your baby with you.)

So this is what I'm trying to forget. It's hard though because Jaron remembers. And he brings up Cooper on a pretty regular basis. He's said things like, "Where's Cooper?" or "When is Cooper coming back?" or "I miss Cooper". The hardest was one night he said to me, "Mommy, I want Cooper to come home." How do you tell a child that their cat is in a place he can't come back from? I'm sure some day when Jaron gets older, he's going to remember all of this, and then be really mad at me for taking his cat away. He'll be in counseling for years over this.

Maybe this is a prelude to all the other difficult parenting moments I'm going to have in the future. Times that things will happen that I won't be able to change. Or stop. Or fix. I can't prevent Jaron from feeling sad, or upset, or even from just missing a cat. I wish I could explain it all to him right now. And let him know how sad I feel about it too.