For the past couple of years we have
had a doe and her two twins hanging around the ol’ homestead feeding off of the
flowers in the garden and the bird feeders in the yard. About a year ago the doe had another set of
twins . . . now there were four children running around with Mom . . . same
pattern of wiping out the flowers and eating up the seed in the bird feeders .
. . and, occasional chopped apples secretly thrown into the yard by the
wife. Consistently they were
entertainment for the wife and I . . . the wife more so than I as she had
developed an emotional attachment to the little Cervidae family of critters . .
. thus the illicit chopped apples
because “they need to eat, too.”
This evening, about 5:30PM, the mamma
deer was hit by a car just down the street from the homestead as she was attempting
to cross the highway. Apparently the
driver caught her in the rear, severing her spine from her legs, and leaving
her on the side of the road as her four spawn watched from the other side of
the road. The wife did not see the
encounter . . . she just happened to come across it on her way home from the
town grocery store. And, yes, it upset
her . . . upset her quite a bit.
To make a long story short, the local
yokel police came and shot it to put it out of its misery. The four babies stood off to the side
watching . . . watching and waiting . . . come on, Mom, get up! The officer left it on the side of the road
and went off to call the wildlife authorities to come and pick up the body . .
. and, the babies waited.
Any critter hit by a car breaks the
wife’s heart. This was a special
critter. This was one she had grown attached
to over the years and to see it laying there suffering . . . and, then later
dead . . . shattered the heart. I must
admit though, she has hung in there and not started to cry despite the waver in
her voice as she spoke about the whole thing.
The death of the does was hard, but watching the baby deer waiting was
even more difficult.
Several weeks ago I hit a deer with my
car . . . over $6,000 worth of damage of the car . . . needless to say that I
am not a fan of deer running across the highway in the dusk of the evening as
they have a tendency to run into motor vehicles like mine. I have a few choice words for them, but in
all honesty, I really lament whenever I have hit a deer. Like some wimpy liberal I think about what is
left behind . . . did I leave a bunch of orphans . . . cut a life short? Of course, my logical side tells me it is
just a deer . . . dime a dozen here in Montana (which is probably why we rank
in the top ten in hitting deer every year).
Yet, I cannot help but to think . . .
. . . think about those four orphans
left behind after the doe was hit by a car.
I think that is what got to anyone who
watched Walt Disney’s classic 1942 movie, Bambi,
when his mother gets shot by a hunter while she is teaching Bambi how to find
food in the winter. There was nothing
sadder than seeing Bambi lying next to his dead mother in the snow . . . our
hearts were broken for the little fawn.
How was he to ever survive? Isn’t
that what ran through all of our minds . . . how was Bambi ever to survive the
death of his mother? As much as I liked
that movie, I am not sure I am ready for my granddaughters to ever watch it . .
. it has a lot of sadness in it. They do
not need such sadness in their lives at their age. But, the bleeding heart liberal I have been
accused of being thinks about that sort of stuff even if the darn deer ran into
my car!
There is a sort of there is a sort of
melancholy to this whole thing. I feel
bad for my wife because she really cared about that little family of deer that
kept popping up into our lives. I feel
bad about the fact that the deer got killed . . . she really was a beautiful
creature and a great mother to those four fawns. I feel bad that there are now four orphans
left behind to fend for themselves. I wonder,
will they survive? To say the least, it
is a sort of gloom that seeps into the mind . . . and, those gloomy thoughts go
beyond just deer, it goes into one’s own life.
Who among us hasn’t thought of “what
if?” You know what I am talking about .
. . what if I have an accident, die, and leave behind a family . . . what if I
my spouse was to suddenly die or disappear or want a divorce . . . what if
something happened to one of my children or grandchildren . . . what if . . .
what if . . . what if! We have all done
it in our minds and hearts leaving behind nothing but melancholy thoughts and
feelings. It is amazing that a little
doe being hit by a car can flip the switch and make us think, “What if?”
Unlike my wife, I did not go and look
at the carnage of the deer/car collision.
Unlike the wife, I did not go and witness the somberness of the orphans
left behind . . . waiting . . . and, waiting . . . come on, Mom, get up! Unlike my wife, I did not go down to witness
the doe lying dead beside the road . . . shot through the head. No, I chose not to go because in my mind’s
eye . . . within my heart . . . I already knew.
I already knew what would be running thorough my heart and mind. The sadness had sunk in without even
witnessing the scene of death. The “what
ifs” were zooming through my mind . . . it was a scene I had already played
through my mind a hundred times . . .what if?
There are no promises in life. Poop happens as our friends at Alcoholics
Anonymous say. Death does not make
appointments. We are often caught off
guard despite our best preparations . . . and, we think . . . what if? I have a deeply seeded need to protect those
whom I love . . . a deeply seeded need to know that they are taken care of . .
. a deeply seeded need to know that they are not hurting or suffering . . . a
deep need to know that I am taking care of my loved ones. The thing that frustrates me over and over
again is the fact that there are no guarantees that I can protect even one hair
on their heads . . . or that I can provide for them in their times of
need. That reality . . . that fact . . .
breaks my heart. It breaks my heart over
and over again because I can see four orphan fawns, standing off to the side,
waiting . . . waiting for Mom to get up and everything to be okay. It just does not happen that way.
No, a cop comes by and puts a bullet
through the brain and the orphans are left to fend for themselves. Such is life.
In my mind the situation for the
orphan fawns goes in both directions. On
the one hand I would hope that there is a Prince of the Forest (Bambi’s father)
who steps up to take care of and provide for the four; but, I know better. Theirs will be a hard life as they strive to
survive on their own. Which is the
complete opposite end of the spectrum.
It is so easy to slip from deer to one’s
own life and family. Like many others, I
pray that I have done what I can to do if such tragedy ever happens in my life
. . . that my family will be taken care of in their time of need. Yet, there are no promises written anywhere .
. . there is only hope.
I know that in the days to come that
the wife will wander out into the street and look . . . she will look for those
four orphans. I know that in the days
and weeks to come—as winter breaks through the fragile shell of autumn—that the
wife will sneak out extra bird feed and illicit apples . . . after all, they
all need to eat. I know that those four
orphans will not be forgotten . . . that they are not just critters. I know that both the wife and I will keep
ourselves abreast of the continuing story of the four orphans. I know because both of us, in our own ways,
has been touched by the death of this doe.
Why?
Because . . . “Death ends a life, not
a relationship.” (Mitch Albom, Tuesdays with Morrie) Life
hurts because of relationships. We care
when it comes to relationships whether it is a little doe getting hit by a car
or those who are closest to us . . . we care.
Caring hurts. Even death has a
heart (Markus
Zusak, The Book Thief).
No comments:
Post a Comment