The Cardboard Coffin

The Little Cardboard Coffin

                We have only outside cats here on the farm. One of the “wild” tabbies had two kittens. She sheltered them under an old spare tire. The second morning after I had discovered the new mama cat and her teeny, tiny kittens, to my astonishment, Wild Tabby approached the back-porch stoop with a rigid, miniature version of her in her mouth. She got closer to me than she had ever gotten and promptly placed the dead kitten as near to me as she dared. It was almost as if she felt compelled to make me aware of her loss even though she didn’t feel comfortable so near to a human.

                Late in the afternoon, she timidly moved into my proximity as I gathered fresh-smelling, clean laundry from the clothesline. I had to find a way to connect with her. Zipping into the house, I grabbed a small bag of treats and miraculously, despite the other aggressive, but extremely tame, felines, I gave the grieving Wild Tabby some treats for the first time. She seemed to understand I had singled her out from the other cats, noticing her, and trying to let her know that I cared about her loss.

The Little Cardboard Coffin for the
Wild Tabby Cat's Kitten

                As I watched her eat that morning, I thought how many times grieving humans come extremely close to us, perhaps subconsciously, seeking comfort from the God of all comfort, sensing that we should be a conduit of that consolation. Do we reach out in compassion or brush past the person barely recognizing his or her presence, instead choosing to remain self-absorbed in our own concerns?

                I recall hearing a comment of a grieving parent of a Sandy Hook first grade victim of violence. The parent, who experienced the loss over four years ago, from which they will never find “closure,” indicated the most egregious action occurs when people appear to ignore the cold-blooded murder of their little girl by saying nothing.

              Just the mention of a sweet memory of the deceased or the reminder that you continue to think of the grief-stricken family, as they live life dealing with their crushing loss, can express “You are not alone. Neither has your loved one been forgotten.”