Saying Goodbye

I've only recently learned to go through the grief process in a halfway decent way. Recently, as I blogged about in my last post, I had to help my friend say goodbye to her horse, Kidd. He had a very sudden and severe colic and there was absolutely nothing we could do to save him. As I go through the process of dealing with the emotions his death has left me with, I am continually struck with how well we dealt with the process--not that it was easy, just that we handled it as well as I think we could have.
First of all, we waited until he was completely willing and gave his permission before we euthanized him. As I said in my last post, I think we were able to help him transition instead of stealing his soul out of his body--and what a difference that makes to my emotional state afterwards! (not to mention, the ease to him of transitioning).
Secondly, we stayed with his body as long as we felt we needed to. My friend kept stroking him and hugging him and sharing stories and how she felt about him. In the past I was never able to do this when my animals died, wanting to avoid the reality of death. I would go to the lengths of averting my eyes from their body, as if pretending what had happened hadn't really happened. I would immediately cover their body with a tarp, or call to have it removed. I remember several times when I lost a horse having terrifying dreams of them wandering around the pasture after they died, with coagulated blood, like a zombie. I think this was a direct result of me trying to avoid the reality of their death and refusing to sit with their bodies.
I also think this process can be important for the horse himself to leave his body. When an animal has time to process the fact that they are crossing over, they may immediately leave their body and cross to the other side. However, when something happens this sudden and surprisingly, they can remain attached to their body just like we are. In this case I think it is important that they have our support in order to detach from their bodies and move on. As we sat with Kid's fallen body, I continually communicated with him and reminded him that he would need to leave his body soon. I continued to prepare him for the reality of his death, just like I had before he was euthanized.
I also think back to when my horses died, and wonder if the feeling I had that they would come back to life had to do with the fact that their deaths were (relatively) sudden and I did not properly prepare them for euthanasia. I imagine that they stayed attached to their bodies just like I felt Kid had, and probably contributed to my difficulty processing the fact they were gone. Not only did I not allow myself to process the fact that their soul had detached from their body, I did not support them in this process either.
The third thing we did right was allow everyone else who loved this horse to say goodbye to him. Kid lived at a treatment center for adolescents, and was one of the main horses we allowed the boys to ride. When we were sitting with his body, my boss came up to me and asked if I thought we should let the boys come out to say goodbye. I am a therapist, but don't always have the answers. I was immediately torn. Would they be able to handle it, or would it just add more trauma to their lives? While sitting with Kidd I began to feel more and more certain that he wanted the boys to come say goodbye to him; in fact, he told me he was not planning on leaving his body until they did!
So, I went inside and explained to all the boys what happened and asked who would like to come say goodbye to Kidd. All the boys were all extremely somber. All but one of them wanted to come out, many of them already in tears. They all came out and sat, kneeled, and stood around Kidd. Some of them had tears running down their face. They were all extremely serious and connected to what had happened They shared memories about him and what they would miss. They stroked him and gave him hugs.
One of the boys said: "You know, it feels like with horses, it's almost like they're hardly even there!"
(This would confirm the communication I got from the first horse that crossed over, that horses can "come and go as they please," while people and dogs are more solid in their bodies)
Confirming that this had been the right choice, most of the kids also shared memories of times they hadn't gotten to say goodbye to important animals or people in their lives. "When my dog died," one said, "my mom wouldn't let me see it, she just took it away." Another said: "I wasn't allowed to go to my step mom's funeral. I always felt like it must have been my fault, because I was left out of everything"
Another said. "When my horse died, my dad just left it lying in the ditch. I never got to see it or say goodbye." All of them had memories of being left out of the dying process because of parents who wanted to protect them. All of them were extremely grateful for being involved in this process and being allowed to say goodbye.
Our boys are troubled teens and needless to say do not always handle things maturely. However, I couldn't have been prouder of how they handled this event. As an adult, I have never handled an event like this as well as they did! And I am so proud and grateful that Kid was able to guide me in guiding them through this process.
There is still a process of grief that follows an event like this, no matter how well you handle it; and never any perfect way to go through it. However, I feel like I am finally learning how to move through this process with grace and an open heart--thanks in part to a horse and some teenage boys.