Our weekend was sunny, slow and surely spring.
On the year’s first truly warm days, our world is barefoot and awake as long as possible. New freckles, yanked dandelions, evening gatherings around fire. Suddenly, our deck is full of neighbors and we’re making dinner.
We hiked and collected bits for Cup’s grave. I found her dead in the coop last Friday. She’s laid an egg that morning, snuggled into me as I filled the water basin. Her death is a mystery. Heart attack? I dug a hole and then, at Ruby’s request, waited for my kids to bury her. I watched the flock perform an unmistakable ceremony; they took notice of Cup throughout the day, circling her sunlit, circular resting spot.
We reinstalled the spruce tree fort, bigger and sturdier for our bigger and sturdier kids. Margot lost her fourth tooth, her smile now interrupted by a big space that permits saliva to fly all about with every “th.”
^ thrifted sheets, stitched and saftey pinned together + draped over limbs ^
We gardened. We hid and found eggs. We baked.
^ an easter tradition in our home: challah hollah! I’ve tried many variations of paska and eventually we fell more in love with challah. We like this recipe best, found in one of my favorite books: Baking Bread With Children. ^
^ my homemade, hippie, refillable eggs ^
^ neighborhood egg hunt and potluck ^
^ e. bunny spotted on the hill ^
I told Margot about Cup while we biked home from school. Her hair folded back around her helmet as she squinted into the sun. “That makes me sad. I feel really sad for Ruby.” Her strong little legs peddled next to mine. I nodded and exhaled. “Can I pluck a few feathers to keep?” I told her yes. We crossed the creek. It was loud.
Once home, Margot touched and studied Cup with a tender science. I stood silent witness, learning from my daughter how to honor a life and ponder a death. “So her heart isn’t beating anymore. So the blood isn’t moving and that’s why she’s so hard? I can feel her bones. I am happy it looks like she is sleeping,” she observed with her hand on Cup’s wing. “I feel like we should eat her tonight? Or something? Do you?”
I married a man forever endeared to childhood, who sees water slides on the hill, trapezes on a branch, monkey bars in an old fence. Yesterday his craigslist dreams came true when he was the first (of dozens, in minutes) to email about a giant trampoline for sale. We jumped until our beds begged us inside. This morning he and the girls were out there at 7am, urging the sun up with laughter and bounds. The trampoline happens to rest right over the earth where Cup rests.
^ photo by Margot of me, embracing my inner cheer ^
Ruby was tearful as she walked to see to her beloved Cup, her hands raised up into the security of her dad’s palm on one side, mine on the other.
^ 2012: Margot (4) and Ruby (2) with Gold and Cup ^
It was dusk and Cup’s grave was gone. We saw an expanse of dirt and pinecones. My confusion shifted to amazement when I realized. They danced and kicked dirt in front of us, demonstrating how it was done. Margot said it out loud: “Holy cow. The other chickens buried Cup. That’s so cool.”
I unearthed her for Ruby. She said goodbye, her blond curls blurring into Cup’s blond feathers. And then we tucked her in for good.
All weekend, a colorful herd of kids ran figure eights through our open doors. Andy and I shared short kitchen slow dances in the middle of making snacks, giving underdogs, making snacks, applying bandaids and making snacks. We always wanted our home to be a home kids would come to, settle into, run through. I don’t think we ever imagined how messy it would always feel but we did imagine how full of life it would feel. It is full. Lively.
19 Comments
Your life is so so good.
Also, three or four years later, we still use your hippie refillable eggs, and our daughter, now 4.5, loves them.
Ellie, love that! Our kids still love them too! And think it’s pretty cool that the bunny fills them and places around our yard. xo
Oh yes, and I love the bunny on that hill of yours 🙂
Also, three days later, our daughter is still filling and refilling the eggs, reliving Easter.
*sigh* your lovely life warms my heart xxx
CL scores can be so life altering! Loved your previous post-critter-deletion post as well 🙂
You weave a story like no other.
With every word, I am with you, on your family adventure!
Thank you for sharing your gift of words.
R.i.p., Cup. I remember one of my early comments on your Instagram being about how sweet Ruby and Cup were together (I mailed you an embroidered dress, bright Blue with chickens because that image struck me so) and wondered what it would be like when the time came that life does what it does and ends for that chicken friend…
I must say that the way your family calmly and tenderly approaches life (and death) is truly what makes me feel so kindred and in love with the way you write about it.
Salt of the a Earth, you are.
Nicolette
R.i.p., Cup. I remember one of my early comments on your Instagram being about how sweet Ruby and Cup were together (I mailed you an embroidered dress, bright Blue with chickens) and wondered what it would be like when the time came that life does what it does and ends for that chicken friend…
I must say that the way your family calmly and tenderly approaches life (and death) is truly what makes me feel so kindred and in love with the way you write about it.
Salt of the Earth, you are.
Nicolette
Love that dress! Excited to bring it back out this summer. Thanks, mama. I feel kindred with you too. xoxo
This is so beautiful…”She said goodbye, her blond curls blurring into Cup’s blond feathers. And then we tucked her in for good”. Margot & Ruby’s appreciation of life is so profound, at their young ages, due to good, loving teachers.
Your Easter sounds like it was picture perfect! Handy Andy strikes again…love that guy!
Ahhh ….you bring back fond memories of kids running through a house! I loved that our house was always a welcome safe refuge for your friends to gather….glad to see that you & Andy have picked up the baton!
Love to all….xoxo
Mom
I’m so very sorry about Cup. I hope once Ruby’s tears have dried she will remember her sweet Chick and all the fun they had together.
I super *heart* those hippie egg bags! What an awesome idea!
– and your photos are & word are as lovely as always. You are such a poet.
I love the innocent, sweet way children deal with death. My daughter is very matter of fact about the death of our pets but can describe and share her sadness as well. It seems grief becomes so much more complex as we age.
Yes! I learn so much through my daughter’s questions about death. Makes me really think about what I feel about death. So awesome.
Oh, this post. Just what I needed today. Can’t wait to be witness to the next chapter: Daffodil and Ruby. Love you.
It is probably a good thing to experience the death of an animal friend sooner than later. 27 years later, classmates still recall the day in grade one when I couldn’t talk all day, and when asked what was wrong, I showed a note that said “my fish died.” It was a guppy that frequently ate its babies.
On another note, I love whenever I get to see your big yellow mixing bowl. It reminds me of my Grandma’s big yellow mixing bowl that was given to her by my Aunt when she won the Betty Crocker Future Homemaker award in the 1960’s. I mixed many batches of cookies in that bowl, with Grandma’s help. My Aunt has the bowl back now. Its sight here, and at her house makes me happy.
May all animals be as beloved at Cup. And may all children know this type of childhood. You are doing this so, so right, Nici,
Well, I’m quite happy that your fun circle of life resides over Cup’s final resting place. And Margot’s comments about keeping feathers and whether or not to eat her? Priceless. This post was a lovely reminder of the balance of life and death. I needed to read this today. As always, thank you for your words.