Cardinals

There was a cardinal in our backyard yesterday and my daughter asked me who I thought it was that was coming to visit us because she knows that we believe cardinals represent our loved ones who have passed away. I told her I thought it was Kari because yesterday was the anniversary of the day he died six years ago. We saw one again this morning and she said that Kari was back and I told her that today it was probably Pop, my grandfather, her great-grandfather. When she asked why it would be him, I told her that today is his anniversary of the day he died six years ago. My daughter is very smart for her age and in the silence that followed I knew what she was thinking. She said, ‘Pop died the day after Kari?’. I could only nod as I saw a little sadness on her face. I could only nod because I didn’t want to start crying myself. I felt off yesterday but it wasn’t my anxiety and there was nothing wrong that I could blame it on. I was just blah. And as much as I tried not to think about my little cousin or my Grandfather, my heart just felt heavy, just felt sad. And it continues today. And on Sunday I’ll be missing my Grandmother and wishing I could call her for Mother’s Day. This week in May is a tough one for my family. But we get through it and look for better days.

I wonder who came up with the whole cardinal thing. Did it come from some ancient myth a thousand years ago? Or did someone realize that you don’t see cardinals every day so they decided to make them a symbol for our loved ones? I’ve heard the same thing said about butterflies. I don’t think it matters where it came from. I think those of us left behind after we lose a loved one need something to cling to, something to believe in, some kind of sign to make us feel better, to let us know they are ok, even for a moment. We want to believe that our loved ones are visiting us in some way. It brings us peace. When we see them in our dreams, we need to believe that they came to visit us for a reason. When we find a penny randomly in our house, we want to believe that they left it for us. If my husband finds a dollar on the street, he always says it’s from his Dad, and it doesn’t matter whether or not it is, it’s just what he believes and it makes him feel good. If I hear a certain song that reminds me of someone, I think it’s their way of saying hello, because out of thousands of songs that could be playing, it’s a particular one out of the blue. I especially believe this when the day has meaning, like their birthday or anniversary. It makes me think of them which makes me happy.

When we lose a loved one, we just feel empty. We need something to fill that void. Seeing a cardinal is one of my favorite things and it has become something my daughter looks forward to, she looks for them all of the time. And when we’re lucky enough to see two together she always says they are her great-grandparents. And for those few moments we watch them fly around, chasing each other and we think about Gigi and Pop up in heaven, having fun together. And it makes missing them not hurt as much.

Six years ago, my daughter wasn’t even two yet so we didn’t have to explain death to her. Now that she’s older, and unfortunately, she has experienced loss more than once, she knows about death, or as much as she can understand. As parents we walk a fine line between saying too much and not saying enough. We want to explain things enough so that our kids understand, but not so much that they obsess over everything. We just never know if we are doing it right. And as our children get older the questions multiply and get more intense. And sometimes I just don’t know what to say out of fear of saying the wrong thing.

My daughter questions everything, she always has. I always ask, ‘why do you ask so many questions?’, and her answer is simple, ‘because I’m a kid and I want to know things’. And I can’t argue with that. Kids are curious and the only way they are going to learn about things is if someone tells them. I just wish they didn’t have to know about things so young. Her big question about death has always been ‘why?’. Why do people have to die? And I wish I had a better answer then ‘it’s just the way life is’, because that answer sucks, even for me. But it is the reality we have to live with every day. It just happens. And when we lose someone, she’ll always ask how they died. I remember one time when she asked, I just said that they were sick and she got such a scared look on her face as she said, ‘did they have a cold like I did that one time?’, and that led me to explain about cancer which I wish she didn’t have to learn about so young. When I was her age, I didn’t need to know about death because I didn’t lose anyone close to me until I was 14, and I could understand things better at that age. But my daughter has had to learn so much and deal with so much at such an earlier age. She’s been to more funerals in her seven years of life than I did in my first twenty years of life and it just sucks. There’s nothing else to say about it, it just fucking sucks.

And I’m sure there are times that she worries. She asked once if me and her Dad are going to die and we told her the truth, that everyone dies, but hopefully it won’t happen for many, many, many years. But the truth is that nobody knows, no one can predict that sort of thing, but I don’t think she needs to know that right now. So, I battle with the question of, am I lying to her or protecting her? And as much as I hate lying, I would rather protect her from some truths and just deal with things as they come. I don’t need her worrying about these things. I don’t want her getting caught in the trap of wondering ‘what if?’ all of her life. I want her to be happy and not worry about adult things until she absolutely has to. Many years ago, one of my aunts said to me, ‘if you worry about death all of the time, you’re going to miss out on life’. I still remember that and I say it to myself all of the time. I don’t want my daughter to have to think like that. At seven she should be thinking about unicorns and rainbows, not worrying about what might happen to the people she loves. And it’s my job to help her do that.

It’s my job to make things easier for her. To help her get through the shitty times in life, to help her find the best answers to the toughest questions. So far, I think I’ve done a decent job. But I know it will only get harder from here. She will get older, I will get older, and there will be a new set of questions with each passing year. And when those questions come, I will give her the best answers that I can, I will always speak from my heart, try not to sugar coat things too much and help her through whatever life throws at her. And in the meantime, we will look for our cardinals and know that our loved ones are all around us helping us get through the day.