My son and his gentle soul

A few nights ago, while getting my son all tucked in for bed, we started to go over my favorite cats of those I’ve had as pets. He’s been asking me this “mommy, who is your favorite cat” question on and off for about the last week.

He knows the answer. I adopted two cats, a brother and sister – the last two from the same litter- when I was starting graduate school. The brother, Ben, lived to be 12 years old, after struggling for two years with Chronic Renal Failure (CRF) and chemo treatments for lung cancer (yes, I am one of *those* pet owners). His sister, Brina, lived to be 16 ripe old years of age. My son remembers Brina. She died when he was four, but he has no memory of Ben.

So, in our “mommy, who is your favorite cat” Q&A, he added that aside from our present cat, Susie, Brina is also his favorite because he met her and not Ben. This is when I corrected him. He actually did meet Ben. He and Ben knew each other for four whole days. Ben was at the very final stages of his kidney disease, and after I brought my son home, that was it for my poor old kitty. He held on as long as he could, and managed to meet the little one who’d been squiggling in my belly for 9 months. But that was enough. It was his time to leave us.

My son was quiet after I said this.

I didn’t know what caused him to be so quiet until I heard the sniffles. Then he said, “Mommy, that is so sad. He finally got to meet me and then he died. I am so sorry for him. I am so sad” and he was overcome with sobbing. He knew that Ben and Brina were my first “babies” and he knew how much they meant to me. He also knows how attached he’s grown to our now one year old cat, Susie, and it all just made his heart break. He thought it was so unfair that Ben managed to make it all the way to meeting him only to die four days later. I tried to explain to him that the fact Ben lived to meet him always made me happy.

The sadness left him so out of sorts that he had to do something else to distract him from it in order to fall asleep. So he drew. (That happens to be one of my escape routes from life’s troubles as well.) One cartoon battle picture later (drawn using Brushes on my iPad) later, and he was ready for sleep. He was asleep almost as soon as I’d pulled the cover back up on his bed, and kissed him on the head.

My son, with his gentle soul, will take the sadness and heartbreaks that this world will hand him very hard. I hope that he is able to handle all the good and the bad that life is going to send his way. But for all the tears, I am so very happy that he is blessed with the ability to feel empathy, love, compassion, more than most people I’ve met in my life. Every day and in every way, he is growing into someone I am so very proud of. I am more glad that he is in this world than words can say.


About rocketsciencemom
I am a rocket scientist in my day job, and a mother of two all the time. I'm a pop culture addict and amateur artist in my spare time. My typical preferences tend toward sci-fi and fantasy genres but I love a good drama or comedy. Reading the blogs of fellow Lost fans over the years has motivated me to finally write my own. All drawings and images on this blog are property of RocketScienceMom

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