Let me pull out my box of Kleenex before I begin...
Ethan has now been home from his mission for two weeks. While other missionaries return to lives of normalcy, Ethan has not been afforded that luxury. At least, not in the "normal" sense.
Our Kennedy family runs non-stop. We never seem to stop, or take a break. I'm sure Ethan hoped that he would be sitting around, catching up on two years of missed movies, and reading from the piles of books I left by his bedside. No. No way, Jose. As much as I would like for him to have the opportunity to relax after his mission, he hasn't been given that chance, and I feel badly for him.
Within the first weekend of being home, he had spent more hours driving in a car than he had spent in a car on his mission. Driving, driving and more driving. I never once heard him complain, but instead he would crack a joke about it. It did give him time with Mark which was a very good thing, but I'm sure he didn't envision hours behind the wheel when he was flying home.
Speaking of flying, he took Mark out to the MTC. Driving to Philadelphia to catch the plane, flying to Salt Lake City, flying back to PA, and making the 3 1/2 hour drive home. He caught up with friends from Poland in Utah, as well as catching up with our favorite Utah cousins. The morning Mark entered the MTC, he and Mark headed to the temple beforehand. Mark couldn't even tell me about it without being reduced to tears, so I know it was a special moment for both of them.
As soon as he got home, he spoke in church (for the second time, but in a different ward), traveling with John. Unfortunately, he didn't realize that church isn't just the three hours for John that it is for us. He waited for John, but John was busy with stake business. Hoping to catch some time with John later that Sunday, he ended up waiting again.
The next day, I think he took a break. At least that's what I could gather from the video game recap he gave me when I called.
The next day he was driving to Michigan to see us. In the car, he had one pup that we had already sold to a person in Michigan, and one pup who had some health issues. We were hoping that we could help Bruce, the pup, here in Michigan.
Bruce has been sick for the past three weeks. He constantly vomits, sometimes up to 30 times a day. He is less than half the size of his siblings, because his body is lacking nutrition. We have spent hundreds of dollars at the vet, trying to figure out what is wrong. When the vet had no answer, we decided to give him some time and see if things got better.
Afterall, Bruce didn't know he was sick. If anything, he showed us all that there's nothing like perseverance through trials. When he got out of his crate up here with us, he boundedout of the crate. He was all smiles and happiness, running around to each of us and saying "hello". Nobody would have ever known that he was feeling ill. Until he started the non-stop vomiting.
Within a day of Bruce being here, I could see that his little puppy life was a hard one. Even sleeping, he would be woken by vomiting. When we would take him out of his kennel in the morning, he would be soaked in vomit. He never cared. He just wanted to try and eat again and get on with life. However, he was exhausted. Puppies are like babies--they need a lot of sleep, and he was unable to get the sleep he needed. His body was rail thin, and when he did sleep (mostly in our arms), it looked like he was able to find some peace.
I knew what had to be done. Something that I had never had done to an animal. Bruce couldn't keep living this way. Eventually, we knew that his kidneys would shut down, and he would suffer. The thought of it all just broke my heart, and I didn't know if I could go through with it. I hoped that maybe Bruce would get better if I just waited longer.
Without even telling me today, Ethan prepared to take Bruce into the vet one last time. I had to work and couldn't go, and John and Ethan didn't want to cause any more sadness than necessary at our home here in Michigan. John knew that Ethan could handle it.
So, at lunchtime, I took one last look into Bruce's beautiful almond-shaped Cherry eyes and said "goodbye". Hannah was holding him on a towel on the couch when I finally walked out the door, and that's the last memory I have of Bruce.
I knew the appointment was scheduled for 2;30, and without any help or support, Ethan took him in for us. As I sat the office where I work at camp, I watched the clock. At 2:40, I texted Ethan and asked him if Bruce was gone. He replied, "yes, he's gone". No amount of telling myself that it was better that he not suffer could stifle the tears that ran down my face. I had to run into the bathroom and just take a moment to thank Heavenly Father for the animals I have had in my life. From 8-week-old Bruce to 14-year-old "Rabbit", animals have always been a part of my life. I know it sounds silly, but I believe that they have souls, and I suspect in many animals, their souls are bigger and kinder than many a human's.
When I finally got home, I just sat alone, remembering Bruce and crying.
However, I realized that I had more than one reason to cry.
In all of this, Ethan had been a hero. He is no longer a boy, but he is a man now, taking care of things that aren't always the easiest to take care of. And I cried for him.
I cried that he didn't get to come home and relax. That he didn't have the opportunity to be "bored" like other missionaries he knows. Instead, he stepped into the shoes that he left here when he went on his mission. The shoes of the oldest, responsible brother that he always was. He has had many stresses on him over the past two weeks, some that I know about and others that I don't. He doesn't complain, or expect to be coddled. He takes cares of difficult things himself, and leaves the happy side of his life for us to see.
It was a terrible day for the Kennedys today. A day where I wished life wasn't so fast and so busy, and where I wished I could slow down time for a bit. I wished I could just catch my breath, and my son could too.
But life goes on. And so do we. Rest in peace, Bruce the pup.
Ethan has now been home from his mission for two weeks. While other missionaries return to lives of normalcy, Ethan has not been afforded that luxury. At least, not in the "normal" sense.
Our Kennedy family runs non-stop. We never seem to stop, or take a break. I'm sure Ethan hoped that he would be sitting around, catching up on two years of missed movies, and reading from the piles of books I left by his bedside. No. No way, Jose. As much as I would like for him to have the opportunity to relax after his mission, he hasn't been given that chance, and I feel badly for him.
Within the first weekend of being home, he had spent more hours driving in a car than he had spent in a car on his mission. Driving, driving and more driving. I never once heard him complain, but instead he would crack a joke about it. It did give him time with Mark which was a very good thing, but I'm sure he didn't envision hours behind the wheel when he was flying home.
Speaking of flying, he took Mark out to the MTC. Driving to Philadelphia to catch the plane, flying to Salt Lake City, flying back to PA, and making the 3 1/2 hour drive home. He caught up with friends from Poland in Utah, as well as catching up with our favorite Utah cousins. The morning Mark entered the MTC, he and Mark headed to the temple beforehand. Mark couldn't even tell me about it without being reduced to tears, so I know it was a special moment for both of them.
As soon as he got home, he spoke in church (for the second time, but in a different ward), traveling with John. Unfortunately, he didn't realize that church isn't just the three hours for John that it is for us. He waited for John, but John was busy with stake business. Hoping to catch some time with John later that Sunday, he ended up waiting again.
The next day, I think he took a break. At least that's what I could gather from the video game recap he gave me when I called.
The next day he was driving to Michigan to see us. In the car, he had one pup that we had already sold to a person in Michigan, and one pup who had some health issues. We were hoping that we could help Bruce, the pup, here in Michigan.
Bruce has been sick for the past three weeks. He constantly vomits, sometimes up to 30 times a day. He is less than half the size of his siblings, because his body is lacking nutrition. We have spent hundreds of dollars at the vet, trying to figure out what is wrong. When the vet had no answer, we decided to give him some time and see if things got better.
Afterall, Bruce didn't know he was sick. If anything, he showed us all that there's nothing like perseverance through trials. When he got out of his crate up here with us, he boundedout of the crate. He was all smiles and happiness, running around to each of us and saying "hello". Nobody would have ever known that he was feeling ill. Until he started the non-stop vomiting.
Within a day of Bruce being here, I could see that his little puppy life was a hard one. Even sleeping, he would be woken by vomiting. When we would take him out of his kennel in the morning, he would be soaked in vomit. He never cared. He just wanted to try and eat again and get on with life. However, he was exhausted. Puppies are like babies--they need a lot of sleep, and he was unable to get the sleep he needed. His body was rail thin, and when he did sleep (mostly in our arms), it looked like he was able to find some peace.
I knew what had to be done. Something that I had never had done to an animal. Bruce couldn't keep living this way. Eventually, we knew that his kidneys would shut down, and he would suffer. The thought of it all just broke my heart, and I didn't know if I could go through with it. I hoped that maybe Bruce would get better if I just waited longer.
Without even telling me today, Ethan prepared to take Bruce into the vet one last time. I had to work and couldn't go, and John and Ethan didn't want to cause any more sadness than necessary at our home here in Michigan. John knew that Ethan could handle it.
So, at lunchtime, I took one last look into Bruce's beautiful almond-shaped Cherry eyes and said "goodbye". Hannah was holding him on a towel on the couch when I finally walked out the door, and that's the last memory I have of Bruce.
I knew the appointment was scheduled for 2;30, and without any help or support, Ethan took him in for us. As I sat the office where I work at camp, I watched the clock. At 2:40, I texted Ethan and asked him if Bruce was gone. He replied, "yes, he's gone". No amount of telling myself that it was better that he not suffer could stifle the tears that ran down my face. I had to run into the bathroom and just take a moment to thank Heavenly Father for the animals I have had in my life. From 8-week-old Bruce to 14-year-old "Rabbit", animals have always been a part of my life. I know it sounds silly, but I believe that they have souls, and I suspect in many animals, their souls are bigger and kinder than many a human's.
When I finally got home, I just sat alone, remembering Bruce and crying.
However, I realized that I had more than one reason to cry.
In all of this, Ethan had been a hero. He is no longer a boy, but he is a man now, taking care of things that aren't always the easiest to take care of. And I cried for him.
I cried that he didn't get to come home and relax. That he didn't have the opportunity to be "bored" like other missionaries he knows. Instead, he stepped into the shoes that he left here when he went on his mission. The shoes of the oldest, responsible brother that he always was. He has had many stresses on him over the past two weeks, some that I know about and others that I don't. He doesn't complain, or expect to be coddled. He takes cares of difficult things himself, and leaves the happy side of his life for us to see.
It was a terrible day for the Kennedys today. A day where I wished life wasn't so fast and so busy, and where I wished I could slow down time for a bit. I wished I could just catch my breath, and my son could too.
But life goes on. And so do we. Rest in peace, Bruce the pup.
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I love this little picture of Brucie because this is how he looked, right at you with his tiny face and big eyes and his body was so small because he was so thin. I loved this little pup even though we only had him for a short time.
ReplyDeleteI feel so sad for you. Little Bruce sounds like a strong spirit of happiness. I still weep over our Phineas and...there goes the tears now. It is a beautiful thing to share your heart even if it gets squeeze with sorrow or squeeze with love sometimes. You are a wonderful woman to love so many.
ReplyDeleteI am so sorry to hear about Bruce. Having to put down an animal is one of the hardest things to do. What a sweet little guy with tons of perseverance.
ReplyDelete