The last few nights, when going through the night time rituals with my girl, she has told me this:
"Mommy, I really miss Kooter. I want to see him in heaven."
And she cries.
I feel bad. I know that this is an early lesson in learning to live in spite of a loss. A lesson in loving sight-unseen. I want to take the pain from her, but know that I can't, nor should I, really.
She is coping well:
She gives lots of attention to Daisy. We talk about Kooter, how we love him, miss him, how he is still in our hearts, how he can visit us in our dreams, how he is probably happy & at peace, playing fetch with an endless supply of tennis balls.
The last few mornings, when I go into her room, she has moved her pictures around. She has framed pictures of her Monkey Matt, her Aunt Angel, and 2 pictures each of Daisy & Kooter. They are all on her nightstand, but when I go in her room, one of Kooter is on her dresser, facing her bed.
This morning, not only was that picture there again, but the other picture of him, a close-up of his silly face when he was a puppy, was in her bed with her. Also? A tennis ball.
When I asked her about the tennis ball, her simple response choked me up:
"I wanted to play fetch with Kooter if he visited me in my dreams."
My sweet girl, if only you knew what you do to me.