‘What’s with the bunnies?’
A few days after Jude died an old friend, who was traveling outside of the country at the time, had a book sent to us. She said she wasn’t sure if it would feel right, but she thought it might be a good one to read with the kids when we felt ready. The book is called Rabbityness (Indigo [Canada] and Amazon [US]) and it tells the story of Rabbit. Rabbit loved doing rabbity things like hopping and cleaning his ears, but he also loved doing unrabbity things, like painting and playing beautiful music. With these things he filled the woods with colour and made all the other rabbits happy. One day Rabbit was gone, and all that was left where he had been was a deep, dark hole. The rabbits were sad and the woods were grey. But when they looked closely, they found the things that Rabbit used to use to make all of his art and colour, and they learned to do this, too, filling the woods with colour again. And they thought of Rabbit, and this made them happy.
Loss is a tough subject with kids. Really, it’s tough with anyone, but it’s especially difficult when you’re talking about losing a loved one with someone who has no concept of mortality. A few weeks before Jude died we lost Craig’s grandfather, who had been going strong at 99 years old. We’re no stranger to loss and funerals in this family, sadly, but it had been several years since our last one, and Isla had been too young to remember. When we sat her down to tell her that Grandpa Sam had died, we told her that we’ll all die and none of us knows how long we’ll get to be here. Some people die when they’re very young, and some people have long lives, like Grandpa Sam. And we’re sad that we can’t see Grandpa Sam anymore. We’ll miss his Easter dinners and his garden parties and seeing him dance at weddings and listening to his stories. And the Kinder eggs at every occasion. But while we’re sad that Sam is gone, we’re also so grateful that he had such a long, happy life, and we got to know him and love him.
The conversation just a few short weeks later had to be different. Jude didn’t get to have a long life. He didn’t get to go out and build whatever life he wanted, or pick his adventures, or fall in love, or even learn how to tie his shoes. We knew what made him tick as a toddler, but that’s such a tiny chapter and he missed out on everything. Where we could find peace in knowing that Sam’s life was so long and full, there was none of that with Jude gone so early.
So what becomes his legacy? How does Jude have an impact in this world when his tiny feet left such tiny footprints?
And that becomes our job. Our privilege and our responsibility. Jude was here and he mattered, but how does he get remembered and what does his life mean?
We’ve gone to work in his memory. Since learning the cause of his death we’ve gotten on this controversial soapbox and asked people to start considering what other actions people can take to protect themselves and the more vulnerable in their community. I’m so proud of the conversation we’ve started and the way the vast majority of people we’ve talked with have kept it respectful and compassionate. Jude deserves no less than that, and I’m grateful that together, in his honour, we’re working together to protect others in our community like him.
But there was more to Jude than the flu, even in his short two years, three months, and 20 days. And when we’re home, with the kids, with our friends and family, it’s the Jude things that we remember. We talk about the things he liked to eat, the way he climbed everything, the way he started all the trouble. We talk about how much he loved learning new things and was so proud that he knew the difference between a pentagon and an octagon – and he would tell you whether you asked or not. We sing his favourite songs and we laugh at his favourite cartoons. We remember his toys and we bring his penguin on adventures. We find dandelions – can you believe that we still have a bright yellow one growing out of our front step? – and we talk about him. We hung his stalking and carved a jack-o-lantern for him. We talk about him and we hold his memory close, and we hope that we gave him the best we very could in the small amount of time we had with him.
We hold on to his rabbityness. The things that made Jude, Jude. The things that made him happy, and in turn made us happy because we got to experience them with him.
All of these things, the big conversation and the tiny details, are all part of his legacy.
We loved this book so much that we worked it into Jude’s funeral. We had a private service with only our very closest friends and family, the people who have mattered through our lives and stayed close, and included in that group of people there were a lot of kids. We planned carefully to make sure that Jude’s service would be as age appropriate as possible, knowing that for a lot of these kids it would be their first time at a funeral, and the idea of another child dying could be scary. And so we played Jude’s favourite songs (‘All You Need is Love’, ‘Yellow’, and ‘Hey Jude’) and we read Rabbityness and The Little Prince, and we focused on how we could remember him and smile, and find joy in the things that would have brought him joy. We made it all about Jude and the laughter that he brought into our lives, and we carry that forward with us for the rest of our days.
If you’re looking for a good introduction to loss and legacy for kids in your life, I really recommend this one. It’s short and simple, but the message is powerful and a nice perspective on how to love someone after they have left us.