When life knocks you down, get back up

The day after Christmas was a difficult day at our house.

Things started off mostly like normal. My office was closed. Sawyer woke up early, so he and I headed downstairs to watch TV. 

Our cat, Zeke, sat on my lap for a while before Sawyer crowded him out to sit closer to me. I told Sawyer to be nice to Zeke because he wouldn’t always be around. I don’t know what made me say that. Maybe it was a weird psychic connection to Zeke.  

Zeke moved to Sawyer’s small chair, a place he often curled up to sleep. And about 20 minutes later, his body heaved and made a strange sound, and he was gone.


Looking back at photos, I realized Zeke was in this family selfie on Sawyer's birthday. The last photo.

I called him, but he didn’t move. When I raised his head, there was no response. But I’ve never had an animal die on me, so I wasn’t sure. I called Ray to come immediately and sent Sawyer to the kitchen. When Ray picked him up, it was clear that Zeke had passed.

He sat down with him on the couch and told me to keep Sawyer out, but I thought we should be honest with him. It’s hard to know what kids will understand, but I believe it’s usually best to be upfront and not sugarcoat things. They have to learn about death too.

Sawyer came in, and I told him that Zeke had died and gone to heaven. He was very confused because clearly, Zeke was right there in Dad’s arms on the couch.

We sent Sawyer up to get dressed, and I tearfully called the vet’s office to ask about getting Zeke cremated. It’s so sucky to be a grown-up sometimes. Even when things are collapsing all around, you still have to do the hard things and keep going.

The vet said we could bring Zeke by any time, so after we got dressed, Sawyer and I drove him across town to the vet's office. I cried and petted him in the front seat the whole way while Sawyer asked me awkward questions about death.

After dropping Zeke off, I couldn’t bear the thought of going home to a house without him. The weight of his absence felt enormous.

I told Sawyer we might go bike riding again, since our bikes were still new and we’d had fun riding on Christmas. But I texted Ray and asked if there was something we could plan to do that night, so I wouldn’t have to sit at home missing Zeke. My suggestion was to take Sawyer ice skating.

He’s been begging me to take him after we saw the outdoor ice rink downtown. I thought we could go after Ray got off from work, but Ray checked our indoor ice rink and learned that open skate times ran till 5 p.m.

So our plans abruptly changed. Sawyer and I grabbed coats, gloves, hats and warm socks, and we hopped back in the car and drove to the Ice House.

I decided not to skate. I’m not very good at it, and after 6 to 8 months of pain from spraining my ankle at the trampoline place, I really didn’t want to fall and do something else. It was also super crowded, which made me glad for my decision.

I played event photographer while Ray tried to school Sawyer on how to skate.

It didn’t go quite as well as I expected. Sawyer was intimidated and didn’t catch on quickly. We decided to rent him a skating “walker” — basically an L-shaped contraption made of PVC piping to give youngsters a brace while learning to skate. It didn’t help much. Ray stayed calm and kept encouraging him to try, but I could tell — even from off the ice and behind the glass — that Sawyer was not having fun. He is too much like me. When he doesn’t do something well the first time, he gets frustrated and then quits having fun.

Luckily, it was about that time they cleared the ice for the Zamboni machine. We stood at one end watching the giant vehicle make sweep after sweep to groom the ice. And Ray asked if he could jump on the fresh ice without Sawyer. So the two of us decided to take a break and get a snack — in the toasty concession booth.

We munched on popcorn and drank hot chocolate while watching Ray’s orange jacket whiz by the windows of the snack shack. He joined us for a bite, and then Sawyer decided to give it one more try.

As we stood by the glass, I pointed out a boy about Sawyer’s size who was mostly walking around the rink. He sparked my memory of hearing someone tell a beginning skater to stomp. So I passed this bit of wisdom along to Sawyer.

With his walker in tow, he and Ray got back on the ice and had much better success. I joked with them that I can’t skate, but apparently, I can give good advice on skating techniques. Ha!

They went round and round — Sawyer, head down watching his feet move and pushing his walker; Ray, skating backward a few feet in front of Sawyer to alert him to skaters and other “obstacles” that he wasn’t noticing.

This time, I could tell he was having fun. He was still serious and concentrating, but when he fell, he’d get back up smiling instead of near tears.

I guess that’s the greatest lesson. When life knocks you down, try to get back up smiling.

He’s got a long way to go with his skating skills, but his confidence is not lacking. After the outing, he told us repeatedly how great he did as a skater. And his next goal is to teach Mom how to skate better.

If he can pass along advice to improve MY skating success, we’ll know that I passed along the “I can’t do it, but I can teach it” gene.