The Light Beyond

When a pet dies...

This is one of the kindest things you may ever see.. 

It is not known who replied, but there is a beautiful soul working in the dead letter office of the US postal service. 
  
Our 14 year old dog, Abbey, died last month. The day after she died, my 4 year old daughter Meredith was crying and talking about how much she missed Abbey. She asked if we could write a letter to God so that when Abbey got to heaven, God would recognize her. I told her that I thought we could so she dictated these words: 

Dear God, 
Will you please take care of my dog? She died yesterday and is with you in heaven. I miss her very much. I am happy that you let me have her as my dog even though she got sick. 

I hope you will play with her. She likes to play with balls and to swim. I am sending a picture of her so when you see her You will know that she is my dog. I really miss her. 

Love, Meredith 

We put the letter in an envelope with a picture of Abbey and Meredith and addressed it to God/Heaven. We put our return address on it. Then Meredith pasted several stamps on the front of the envelope because she said it would take lots of stamps to get the letter all the way to heaven. That afternoon she dropped it into the letter box at the post office. A few days later, she asked if God had gotten the letter yet. I told her that I thought He had.

Yesterday, there was a package wrapped in gold paper on our front porch addressed 'To Meredith' in an unfamiliar hand. Meredith opened it. Inside was a book by Mr. Rogers called, 'When a Pet Dies'. Taped to the inside front cover was the letter we had written to God in its opened envelope. On the opposite page was the picture of Abbey & Meredith and this note: 


Dear Meredith, 
Abbey arrived safely in heaven. 
Having the picture was a big help. I recognized Abbey right away. Abbey isn't sick anymore. Her spirit is here with me just like it stays in your heart. Abbey loved being your dog. Since we don't need our bodies in heaven, I don't have any pockets to keep your picture in, so I am sending it back to you in this little book for you to keep and have something to remember Abbey by.
Thank you for the beautiful letter and thank your mother for helping you write it and sending it to me. What a wonderful mother you have. I picked her especially for you. 
I send my blessings every day and remember that I love you very much. By the way, I'm easy to find, I am wherever there is love. 

Love, 
God 

Do animals go to heaven?

The ever-helpful Aquarius posted this lovely story recently on the Light Beyond bereavement forum:

See for yourself from this true story which one of my friends sent me:

Our fourteen year old dog, Abbey, died last month. The day after, my four year old daughter Meredith was crying and talking about how much she missed Abbey. She asked if we could write a letter to God so that when Abbey got to Heaven, God would recognise her. I told her that this was a wonderful idea and could she dictate this letter to me. This is what she wrote:

Dear God,
Will you please take care of my dog? She died yesterday and is with you in Heaven. I miss her very much. I am happy that you let me have her as my dog even though she got sick. I hope you will play with her. She likes to play with balls and to swim. I am sending a picture of her so when you see her you will know that she is my dog. I really miss her.

Love,
Meredith

Together with a picture of Abbey and Meredith we put the letter in an envelope and addressed it to God in Heaven. We put our return address on the envelope and Meredith pasted several stamps onto it, because she thought it would take lots of stamps to get the letter all the way to Heaven. The same afternoon she dropped it into the letter box at our local post office. A few days later, she asked me whether I thought God had received her letter; I told her I thought he had.

Yesterday we found a package wrapped in gold paper on our front porch; it was addressed to Meredith in an unfamiliar handwriting. When she opened the parcel it contained a book by Mr. Rogers called, 'When a Pet Dies.' Taped to the inside front cover was the letter we had written to God in its opened envelope. On the opposite page we found the picture of Abbey and Meredith and this note:

Dear Meredith,
Abbey arrived safely in Heaven. Having the picture was a big help; I recognised Abbey right away. She isn't sick anymore. Her spirit is here with me just like the memory of her will always stay in your heart. Abbey loved being your dog. Since we don't need physical bodies in Heaven, I have no pockets for keeping pictures in, so I am returning it to you in this little book. It is for you to keep so that you have something to remember Abbey by.

Thank you for the beautiful letter and thank your mother for helping you write it and send it to me. What a wonderful mother you have. I picked her especially for you. My blessings are always with both of you, the same as with everybody else. Never forget that I love you all very much.

By the way, I am easy to find; wherever there is love that's where you will find me.

With love,
God

Thank you, Aquarius! Visit the bereavement forum here: www.thelightbeyond.com/forum

Requiem for a rabbit

From the ever-wonderful Michael Neill: Just before I boarded the flight back to LA this morning, I got a call from my wife with some news - our rabbit, Biggie Tupac Jr. (he was a hip-hop bunny) was attacked in the garden in the night by some wild animal or another and died.  The kids were crying in the background, and after a few quick words with my five year old daughter, who proudly assured me that they were all sad, even her, I strapped in to my seat and switched off my phone.

All flight long I've been wondering about what to say to them when I get home.  Do I commiserate with their sorrow and agree that this is terrible, awful and bad? Truth be known, I was never a huge fan of the rabbit, but I certainly don't think his was a pleasant demise.

Do I help apportion blame?

Do I trot out the "death is a natural part of life" speech in hopes that somehow they'll just "get over it"?

Do I run out and buy them a new rabbit, in a "please don't be sad I can't stand it if you're sad I want us all to be happy, happy, happy" kind of way?

After several hours of contemplation at 30,000 feet, I've concluded the real questions is less what I will ultimately do or not do than why I would be doing it.  If I think my kids' beautiful, delicate souls can't handle the realities of a sometimes harsh and hostile world, I will look for ways of "making it all OK".  If I think my kids need to toughen up and prepare themselves for the realities of life and death, I will show little empathy for their sorrow and make sure they know that "people (and rabbits) die - that's just the way it is."

But the reality is, I think my kids are capable and able and wise beyond their years.  (I also think this is true of you, and your partner, and your parents, and your kids, and even your cousin Bob who's always seemed a bit hopeless - but more on that later.)