Chocolate Milk and a Bendy Straw

I can finally speak about our cat Wookie, without melting into a slovenly heap of tears. Getting over our loss was one thing, explaining her absence to Milo, quite another. I can say this with absolute impartiality, Milo is brilliant and I knew his first visit after Wookie was gone would be tricky.

There is nothing more heartbreaking than chubby cheeks and crystal clear blue baby eyes imploring, "Where's Wookie?" I still remember Margaret Sheldon, my childhood friend, blurting out over chocolate milk and a bendy straw, when we were about five, "When you die there is nothing. Nothing, just black." Ugh! Up until that moment, life was pretty good. Then WAM!

I won't do that to Milo. His world of pure innocence is precious, to be protected at all costs. The reality of the world will come to him, eventually, no matter how hard we try to keep it at bay.

"Wookie got sick and we had to take her to the cat doctor." I said. He thought about it for a moment.
"Wookie is sick?"
"Yes."
"Wookie will come back?" Milo asked as he checked under the bed.
Well, she has, I thought to myself, in a manner of speaking, in the backyard, under a hibiscus tree. Just then Daughter walked in with baby Leo. A reprieve!

"Let's go play with your toys," I said as Milo ran to his basket, momentarily forgetting our conversation.

I can't protect Milo from the Margaret Sheldon's of the world forever, but I'm sure going to try. The window of innocence is so fleeting.

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