Filed under: Stuff | Tags: cancer, daughter, family, father, kite, loss, parenthood, where are you God?
i’ve been thinking a lot about death lately.
someone i am not close to, but knew from way back, lost their 3 year old son to cancer a few days ago. i cannot comprehend what that would feel like. some people can, but i can’t. my wife lost her younger brother when she was 8 years old. he was 5. 5 years old. 3 years old. in these moments there are no answers. a young child. so innocent. so naive. so beautiful. and life is gone. there is nothing you can say. nothing you can do. no right way to feel. no possible way to move forward. in all that happens in this crazy messed up world, there is not much that shakes me as much as the death of a child. it is one of the few moments where i really wonder, “where are you, God?”
i went home after finding out about this and found my wife and daughters had gone for a walk. i knew where they would be, so i hopped in my car and made the short drive down to the park, where they go every day the weather will allow. most days, i would go home and sit in the quiet, maybe read or play online poker until they got back, but today i needed to see them. my heart lit up at the sight of my daughter running back and forth from the bottom of the slide to the top. before i even got out of the car, i could hear her laughing. i made the short walk over and as our eyes met, she yelled ‘DADDY! i’m so glad to see you.’ and there was nothing she could have said that would have sounded better than that. i kissed my wife and knelt down to see my other daughter asleep in the stroller, her deep and heavy breath fighting through the summer heat. she was at peace, and as i felt that breath as i leaned down to kiss her, i was so thankful. 
makena had never flown a kite before, and so i drove home to get her kite as the wind had picked up. i knew she would love it. she is always so adventurous, so excited to try new things. flying that kite was easy as anything that day, as the wind would pick it right up off the ground and take it wherever it wanted. any other day, i would have held the string tightly as makena held the handle, to ensure it didn’t blow away. and i did for a minute, but gave up soon as i realized it stopped me from being able to watch her. and so i let go and watched. i watched her run with the wind blowing her hair into her mouth and the kite going higher and higher. i knew she wouldn’t be able to hold on if the string got out too far, but it didn’t matter. because she was so happy. so alive. and i needed alive in that moment. because death is terrifying. and a 3 year old boy had died that day. and i was wondering where God was. and i needed to see life. sure enough, she let go and the kite went soaring across the field and into an old ladies house. the string was tangled in her tree, and she was annoyed, but i didn’t care. i know that makes me a rude neighbor, but my daughter was so happy in that moment, i didn’t care. i needed to see her alive. and i hope i don’t sound heartless, speaking of a moment with my daughters that will forever remain with me while someone else has lost someone so dear to them. because it breaks my heart to know the pain they are going through. i just so badly needed to see some beauty in that moment of feeling totally broken and helpless. because if that did happen to my daughters…i would be lost. i wouldn’t know what to do.
life isn’t fair. and someone can be alive one moment. and they might be gone the next. and we feel powerless. we feel hopeless to control the steady march towards death. most days we manage to ignore it. we push it beneath the surface and pretend we are invincible. we pretend time will never catch up with us. and then a 3 year old dies. and time stops. and we wonder, “where are you, God?” and that’s okay. it’s okay to ask those questions. i have to believe that God is okay with that. if i really wanted to be cliche, i could tell you the story of the footprints on the beach. or i could call up this distant acquaintance who just lost their 3 year old, and tell them, ‘he’s in a better place, now.’ that might be true, but i think those christian cliches mean little in the face of tragedy. but i do believe God is with us in the midst of that pain, stupid footprints story or not. and so if, God forbid, i ever lose someone the way these people have, please don’t hit me with christian cliches. because i might punch you. right in the mouth. because i am wondering today where God is in the death of a 3 year old, and i don’t have an answer. and neither do you. i can’t see him. i can’t understand why he let’s this happen. and i’m angry. and trivial words spoken with positive intentions can’t stop the pain of those who have lose someone. but i believe God can. and i believe he is there in the wreckage of life. and as people on this broken earth, we can’t offer much.
but we can sit. and wade through the pain alongside them in silence.
i’ve always loved dogs. ever since i was a little kid, no one could convince me that there was a better pet. anyone who says cats are better can try playing fetch with a cat, and tell me what happens. if you get any other response than a lick of their paws and a stretch, i’d be surprised. don’t get me wrong. i love cats too. but there is nothing like a dog.
our first dog was jay jay. i still remember the day he was dropped off at our huge rented house out on lakeshore dr. by one of dad’s friends. a beautiful, playful black lab with all the energy in the world. i loved that dog, but nobody loved him as much as my dad. my favorite memory was the time i got him calm enough to fall asleep draped over my lap. i was only 5 years old, and i remember sitting right in front of the entrance to our house on a beautiful summer day. it was almost supper time, and jay jay came and sat down beside me, stretched out his big old hiney and plopped down on top of my legs. i must have sat there for hours. someone came to get me for supper, but i refused because i was relishing the moment. this dog loved me. he wanted to be nowhere else except for right on my lap. later, someone tried to get out the front door, but i wouldn’t let them, because it would mean i had to move, and then jay jay would move. i wanted that moment to last forever. finally, dad made me go to bed.
one day, we came home from church and there was something wrong with jay jay. he was standing at the tree line, foaming at the mouth and his back legs wouldn’t work. he didn’t look so much angry as he did confused and scared. dad told mom to take us into the house and not let us out. i didn’t know what was wrong, but i knew that wasn’t the same dog. something had changed. there was no love in his eyes. only fear. i don’t remember what exactly happened next. only that dad came home a few hours later not the same man as he was before. mom says that he was pale as a ghost, and could barely talk. jay jay didn’t come back, and while we didn’t get any specifics at that time, we knew jay jay was gone. there was nothing dad could do. i don’t know how it feels to lose your best friend. but i remember the confusion i felt that day. the feeling of loss. the lesson that life was hard and things didn’t always go your way. later when we were much older, dad told us he had to put him down. he had to shoot jay jay. there would be no recovery for him, and so all dad could do was put him out of his misery. what shook dad up more than anything was the way jay jay looked into his eyes as he pulled the trigger. i can’t imagine what that would feel like. and we couldn’t get a dog after that. i know deep down it was because dad couldn’t handle going through that again. and who can blame him?
when i got married, i was so excited to get our first dog. if i had known what i know now about dogs, i would have gone to the humane society and picked out a dog from there. but i didn’t, and so i got suckered by PETLAND. and i’m so glad i did. i first saw hudson about 4.5 years ago. i was about to go on vacation for a few weeks, but i had this habit of seeing what new dogs they had gotten in. usually i would ‘oooh’ and ‘aaah’ over all the dogs, but none would inspire me to stupidity the way hudson did. he was the last of his group. a monstrous beast of a boxer. they didn’t say why no one had taken him yet, only that he was the biggest dog out of the litter. usually people want cute little puppies, but hudson had towered over his brothers and sisters. and once you get big, it’s harder to get that cute innocent puppy look you once had. but i saw him and fell in love. i played with him for about half an hour. he was crazy! he jumped all over me, nipped at my fingers, peed on my shoes, but i thought he was the coolest thing i had ever seen. i got melissa and she came to take a look. she wasn’t quite as sold as i was, but she had a soft spot growing inside of her as well. we went home and started looking into how much apartments would cost that allowed dogs. we discovered if we were to move to a new place, we would pay $300+ more than we already were. and so the door was closed. we went on vacation, and while i’d like to make the story perfect by saying i never gave up, i had. we were in BC for two weeks and had a blast, with all thoughts of buying a dog out of our heads.
when we came back, we didn’t immediately go back to PETLAND. part of me was afraid that if he was still there, that insatiable yearning would overtake me, and i would do something crazy. but part of me was afraid that he was all alone, without a brother or sister to cuddle him. hey, just cause i have a skull tattoo doesn’t mean i’m not sensitive, ok? sure enough, three weeks after our initial meeting, we went back to find hudson still there. the series of events that followed were insane. we decided to look into a mortgage. for a dog. well, that’s only half true. we were having our first child 5 months from then, and wanted a house anyway. but the truth is, if we hadn’t found hudson and fallen for him the way we did, we may not have ever left that apartment. after being approved for a mortgage, we bought hudson. which was ridiculous. our apartment didn’t allow dogs. we hadn’t even started looking for a house yet. but we bought him because we couldn’t risk losing him. we snuck him into our apartment and tried our best to keep him quiet. we had the infamous “#4” living beneath us, and he would bang on the roof if we went to the bathroom in the middle of the night. so we knew we had to be careful before we got in trouble.we hadn’t named him yet. i wanted to call him “assistant manager” as he was to be my second in command in the household. (just kidding, sweetheart. i know you rule the household), but we finally settled on hudson. he was a little poop machine that wouldn’t quit. i skipped about a week of work, while melissa skipped some of hers so we could look after him during the day. all the while we searched for houses. our only requirement for finding a house was immediate possession. we found a dump, which has since turned into a livable home, and moved in within two weeks of buying hudson.
we bought a house for our dog. and i can’t say that i have been happy ever since with him in my life. 5 months later, we went to the hospital with our first child on the way. we couldn’t afford to buy a kennel for hudson, and so we left him out. we came home the next day to find our couches ripped apart, with fluff covering our entire living room. i can’t say that love conquered all in that instance. the middle of the night whining and scratching of the door to go outside drives me crazy. at least that’s better than the 1 year period where he just wouldn’t wait until we let him outside. on new years eve that first year in our new house with a new baby and a new dog, we ordered pizza. hudson jumped on the table and ate it all while we were in the other room. he is constantly driving me crazy. he always gets in the way when your in a hurry. he always steps on your foot with his 80 pound frame. he farts every time he walks up the stairs. he freaks out whenever he sees a squirrel/bird/mailman out the window. he tracks mud in the house every time it rains. he crowds our vehicle beyond measure on road trips. he can never be close enough to you, so he is always trying to stand on top of you, and he inevitably hurts you with his massive frame.
but he is the most loyal dog i have ever met. no matter how much i ignore him, he always greets me at the door. when i smack him for doing something he shouldn’t, he comes slinking over to me and licks the hand that beat him, desperate for my love. he is better than any alarm system. he will eat you alive if you break into my house. but the second you walk in and he knows that we accept you, he becomes your best friend too, whether you like it or not. he is so gentle with my two daughters. they constantly pull at his ears, play with his jowls, try to ride him like a horse, and he always wags his tail and licks them with love. he sleeps at the end of our bed. if he had his way, he would sleep on top of me because he loves us that much. and even though he crowds us in the car, when we leave him at home, we miss him terribly and can’t wait to get back and see him. and while he drives me to the edge of insanity sometimes, i wouldn’t trade him for the world.
because i thought the other day about how i’d feel if i had to do to hudson what my dad had to do to jay jay. a piece of me would die. i will lose some of myself if (and when) hudson ever leaves. hudson is our family. and i haven’t treated him as good as he deserves. because there is not a better dog out there. lots of you will disagree, and think your dog is better. but you are all liars. no disrespect, you filthy liar. hudson is the greatest that has ever been. he’s the greatest there is. and he’s the greatest there ever will be. i love you, hudson. happy 4th birthday you old beast. 
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