Golarz: 'Until we meet again': Reflections on death, dying and who we will see in heaven
In the movie, Heaven is for Real, a boy dies and goes to heaven. He later tells his mother about things he experienced.
“Mom, I didn’t know I had a sister. “
“Of course you do, she’s right here.”
“No, the one that died in your tummy. I met her in heaven.”
“What was her name?”
“She didn’t have a name. You and dad didn’t have time to name her. Oh, there was a beautiful horse in heaven too.”
“A horse?”
“Sure, mom. Heaven’s full of animals, all kinds.”
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For many who saw this movie, it’s a sweet fantasy. But for me, a hopeless romantic, if I can believe in millions of angels dancing on the head of a pin, then I can certainly believe that miscarried babies and also dogs and cats go to heaven.
Marion and I never owned a cat — dogs-a-plenty. Then, one late afternoon when we were driving home on a very dark and wooded county road, a shaggy, flea bitten, scrawny white kitten appeared. We stopped, and Marion opened the door.
Without hesitation he shot into the car. We had a cat.
He was lucky that we saw him and picked him up, so we named him Lucky. We got him to the vet, fed him and cleaned him. He never really ever became totally domesticated, but then neither have I. He seemed a good fit. When we unintentionally forgot his food or water he would gently nip Marion in her Achilles heel. Within two years, every one of our married children owned a cat.
Patches came a couple of years later. The runt of a litter from the shelter — a pretend calico. She was sick when we brought her home. For a month she sat next to me in my recliner. Once she was well she would sleep whenever she could on Marion’s lap or on a bed in the afternoon sun. When wanting to be held, she would follow Marion around the house and meowed sharply until picked up. She was the greatest of animals. Never full-sized, she conversed with you with her eyes that were always so full of life and pixy sparkle. I personally believe God gives us babies and these little animals, so while on Earth we can experience pure honesty, trust, and openness.
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Lucky, after 17 years, found a remote place in the attic to pass away. Patches never really stopped looking for him. Several years later, Patches suddenly wouldn’t eat. We actually attempted to feed her with a toothpick and ground up tuna. The medical diagnosis was terrifying — inoperable tumors and increasing pain.
When you get to my age, you have seen death and dying — friends, relatives and animals. But it is most overwhelming when you are the ones deciding when the end will come. She rested in Marion’s arms, purring and looking up at me with her gentle eyes. After the vet’s second shot, she continued to look up but the purring had stopped and gone was the pixy sparkle. We sat quietly holding her for a very long time.
Some day, when it is our time, we will head upwards, God willing, and as we gaze out over God’s bliss we will find both of them. It will be quite easy. For you see, Marion will hear sharp meows and feel something nipping her Achilles. We will turn, look down then peer into their gentle pixy sparkle eyes.
You may believe what you wish, but for us, God just doesn’t let innocent and pure things simply die.
This article originally appeared on The Herald-Times: Columnist ponders whether dogs and cats wait for us in heaven
