Family and Death

Loss can be described as many things; the misplacement of tangible items, the ending of a close relationship with a friend, a goal not achieved or the death of a loved one. Through the readings, posts and responses of this course we have seen that individuals each respond to their loss in ways that are unique to them, yet there is a common thread amid it all - everyone grieves and mourns their losses and their lives are forever changed. While reviewing the losses that I have experience, I at first attempted to define which would be the most significant and there for most deserving of further thought and ultimately inclusion in this lossography. What I realized was that significant does not always mean huge or all encompassing, that some losses are smaller and maybe only seen as a loss to the person directly experiencing them. Focusing on death, the first recollection I have is that of a beloved pet, Henrietta an orange and black guinea pig. I am not exactly sure how long we had her or how old I was when she died (although from the room in my memory I would have to guess 9 or 10) I just remember thinking of her as a great pet, she never bit, she did not try to run away, and always seemed to be listening when I talked to her. I remember going into my bedroom and realizing she had not issued her usual welcoming whistle, I walked up to her cage - a large square made of welded together refrigerator shelves with a solid metal bottom that the sides could be lifted out of - and seeing her lying on her side, not moving. I think I knew immediately that she had died, because I uncharacteristically stepped inside the cage and bent down to pick her up, she was large and I always used to hands, this time she was limp and cold. I do not really remember what I did after that, I am sure I told my mom and we buried her, I also do not remember how my younger siblings reacted, but I do know that in that memory I was not crying. Having grown up

spending a great deal of time on my