Farewell, Franklin

"If we can live but for a short time, let us live knowing that we have been loved every single day of our lives."

I can only explain this in a way that my heart can handle. I will use the words that I told my daughter. "Ella-Bella missed her brother Franklin so much that God brought him to her."

Last Friday morning, Darren woke me and told me that Franklin had just been hit by a car. The words were unbelievable to me. My mind, from slumbering to tragedy, raced to understand what I had been told. I pulled on clothes in seconds and told Darren to get him. I ran to the car, frantic prayers tumbling from my lips, panic taking place of disbelief. Darren wrapped our dear boy in towels, and I tried not to look at the spot in the road that was covered with his blood. He put him on the floor of the passenger seat and it seemed as if he was already dead. I put my hand on him and crooned, "Mommy's here, baby. I'm here." I pulled onto the main road and he gave an awful gasp. I pulled him onto my lap and cycled through sobs and prayers and soft words.

I flew into a parking spot at the vet's office a few minutes down the main road and ran in. I cried out, "Help. Somebody help me." And when the receptionist appeared I gave him to her, "He's just been hit by a car." She raced him to the back and I waited. They put him on oxygen and gave him medicine for pain, the vet was on her way. The receptionist told me this, and I told her that I knew it was bad, that I knew he might not make it.

Darren brought the kids to the vet's office still  in their pajamas. We all embraced and I sobbed into Darren's shirtfront. He left for work, and I held the kids. Degen did not understand what was going on, but I talked quietly to Kyrie about what was happening. She was calm and brave and strong. We waited and waited and waited. Then the receptionist came to talk to me and briefly it seemed as if there was a small amount of hope. Maybe just maybe it was not as terrible as we had thought. But just minutes later the vet sat down with me and told us that the damage was significant. His lungs and his brain had been gravely injured and though he was alive, he was unresponsive. I told her we would say our goodbyes.

I went back first. One of the vet techs stood over him, her eyes red with tears. Everyone was silent. I petted him and sobbed into his soft fur. I told him how much we loved him. I told him how good he was. I told him how sorry I was for what had happened. He was already on the threshhold, so near to heaven though still on that table. I went out and got the kids. I put Kyrie on the table so that she could pet him. I whispered to her how much he had loved her and she him. I told her how lucky he was to have been so very loved, that such a life no matter how short was worth it because of all that love. I told her how happy he would be to be back with Ella once again, how much they must have missed each other. Tears rolled down her face and her lips trembled as she petted him for the last time. We said our goodbyes, and then the vet ushered him beyond. At home, we would say goodbye again. Darren made a spot for Franklin in the garden.

I took these photos of our beloved kittens soon after we brought them home. Though my heart struggles to grasp that we lost both of them so soon right after the other, I look at these pictures and can only surmise that there are just some souls that are meant to be together. Sadness grips my heart, but eases its grasp knowing that they are together again. I question how it is that they could have ever been apart when together seems so peaceful, so right.

Our darling Roosevelts! I so wish that they were with us still. I wish I had the peace that Kyrie has. Though she was sad to lose Franklin, she is so accepting of life and death and its place in our lives. She is strong like Darren. Just the evening before, we came home after a long day and Franklin met Kyrie on the sidewalk. He lolled and she petted, cooing at  him before slinging him over her shoulder. I was always amazed how he let her baby him. I am so grateful that she had that moment with him. He was her cat and she was his girl.

We are going to make a garden stone for Franklin and one for Ella... and one for Gypsy whom we also lost in the last year. Bit by by grief loosens its grip. We have so much love to give, and we know that there are kittens out there who need a home.