Several years ago, my grandmother fell and broke her hip.
Up until that time, Mimi, as she was called, was active and lively – the last Christmas before the injury she made snow angels in confetti on her living room floor at Christmas. My grandfather (“Pops”), by contrast, was a quiet man. If he’d been born later, he may have been diagnosed with social anxiety or some other disorder, as he tended to be nervous in social settings. Mimi was the perfect compliment to him, because she was a spirited conversationalist who could easily carry the social load.
When Mimi was released to rehab, I loaded Sarah Kate into my Toyota and made the three-hour drive to visit her. We stopped first at the house to see Pops, and I worried that after being cooped up in the car for so long, Sarah Kate – who was two at the time – would be too much for his fragile nerves. To my surprise, she climbed up into his lap, laid her head on his shoulder, and gently stroked his hand.
That was when I first became aware of Sarah Kate’s capacity for empathy and compassion.
We left Pops behind and drove next to the rehab facility. Immediately upon arriving, Sarah Kate’s demeanor changed. She pushed Mimi’s wheelchair up and down the halls, bringing sunshine to the sterile spaces. Both she and Mimi laughed and squealed with delight, creating a joyful ruckus where ruckuses were likely few and far between.
Sarah Kate knew, instinctively, at two years of age, that Mimi and Pops needed different things, and that’s what she gave them.
I’ve been amazed over the years at how compassionate Sarah Kate can be.
She isn’t overly sentimental, and unlike many girls, doesn’t have a flair for the dramatic. She was never a clingy child, and she isn’t upset easily. But she cares when it counts.
Although she has expressed a desire to be many different things “when she grows up,” the one thing that she’s said off and on for several years is that she wants to be a veterinarian. When she was not quite three years old, a vet friend of mine told me that Sarah Kate was just like her as a child. Not long ago, another vet friend of mine took Sarah Kate to work with her for a day to see what it was like. She loved it.
Last week, Sarah Kate’s cat, Doc, was injured.
I won’t go into specifics – it’s rather gruesome – but will say that we knew it was bad, and it was worse than we thought. Initially, I felt that he would be okay, so we had only told Sarah Kate that he was hurt and at the vet.
After learning on Monday that his injuries were life-threatening and that he was getting worse, not improving, I decided to talk to Sarah Kate about the situation in the car on the way home from school. I wanted her to know that he was seriously ill so that she would be prepared if The Worst happens. With watery eyes, she asked me if I thought Doc might die, and I told her that, yes, he might. She still remembers our lab, Tess, who died shortly after Nathan was born, so she’s been through the death of a pet before.
She immediately asked if she could go and see him.
At first, I was hesitant and gently tried to dissuade her (he’s very ill…he won’t look good because he’s been shaved and his wound is open…he’s lethargic…he’s in pain and may cry if you touch him…). But knowing that her only other chance to see him may be when it’s too late, I drove to the vet’s office and went inside by myself to ask them if we could see him. I was warned about the potential impact of the image of our sick kitty, and rightly so, but they agreed and I went back to the car to get Nathan and tell Sarah Kate that we could go in.
The scene when we walked in was both better and worse than I had envisioned. I expected his wound to be gruesome enough to make me squirm, and for him to be lethargic but aware. Instead, the wound was forgotten when I saw him slumped pitifully on the table, his breathing labored. I immediately knew what the vet had been hesistant to say: Doc is dying. Sarah Kate reached out her hand, barely touching him, in an effort to be certain not to cause him any pain. He didn’t react.
She continued to stroke him, increasing pressure but still with a light touch. She leaned close and looked into his heavy, vacant eyes. I switched my phone to mute and discreetly snapped a few photos, knowing that this moment might end up being significant. I fought back tears as I watched them, then slipped out quietly so as not to let her see me cry.
The rest of our visit, I walked in and out of the room – grateful for the excuse of a rambunctious toddler – to avoid crying. Through it all, though, Sarah Kate was caring yet stoic. Her tears in the car told me that she was fully aware of the situation – she knew and understood that Doc might die – but she held it together like a pro. She continued to stroke Doc’s head until he, at long last, moved his head into what appeared to be a more comfortable position and fell asleep; she then walked out to the waiting area, where I had retreated once again, ready to go.
I’m convinced that Sarah Kate has a future caring for others.
Perhaps she’ll be a vet, as she’s stated many times, or a hospice nurse, or perhaps even a physical, occupational, or speech therapist. She’s not squeamish, she’s calm and matter-of-fact, but above all else she is instinctively compassionate to people and animals. It is her gift.
Liz says
Ok, so now I’m teary and don’t have a toddler to distract me.
Sarah Kate has truly a kind and beautiful soul.
Kristen says
Ummm…so I’m at work and crying. Sarah Kate is so very brave. Her heart is so pure and beautiful!
Kim T says
Andi – I frequently read your posts and this one, by far, had me closest to tears. I wish more people came into my work with half the heart that SK seems to have!
Carol says
Tears dripping down my face – after losing 2 dogs and 1 cat over the last 12 months Ive had my own share of grief but I have to say watching my 8 year old daughter try to be brave and deal with it broke my heart the most.
Anna Theurer says
Sweet SK and poor Doc! My heart is breaking. SK is so brave and compassionate to sit there and stroke Doc’s head.
Maggie V says
What a wonderful girl SK is. So sorry about Doc.
krlr says
I’m so sorry about Doc – and what a sweet, sweet girl.
starrlife says
Oh my goodness. I’m crying now. I love my animals, my furry friends and have ushered 4, with nursing care and old aged illness,onto the rainbow bridge as some call it. But I could NOT be a vet and do this regularly – my heart is broken and I’m not sure I can do it again. But you are so right about Sarah’s presence in the world. She is a gift.
You just wrote about Doc being a night stalker? What happened? I will hold Doc and you all in my heart.
Andi says
The post that went up on Friday that included the snippet about Doc was written on Thursday night. On Friday he seemed not himself and by Saturday he was obviously ill. I will spare you most of the details, but he had a wound near his rear that was fairly deep and severe. The vet was unable to close it up when he first came in, and by the time he was able to do it Doc was too weak for anesthesia. He got a blood infection and went downhill quickly. I took Sarah Kate to the vet’s office after school yesterday so she could say goodbye, and dang it if that cat didn’t meow and take his last breath while she was sitting there petting him and talking to him. I guess he was waiting for her to come.
starrlife says
More tears . Hugs all around
Sabrina says
I agree that God has a plan for Sarah Kate. To be compassionate the way she is is a true gift and will definitely not go to waste. I have a feeling that she will make a big impact in peoples’ lives with whatever she embarks on as an adult – she’s already begun doing that as a child.
God bless,
Sabrina
wendy at mama one to three says
wow, what a moving story. She’s incredible and certainly destined to change the world. It made me truly hope my children have that compassion in them. I am sorry about your cat.
Marcy says
I am crying here reading this. She is so special. And I am so sorry about Doc. When I read yoiur comment about him also waiting for her to pass on…well more tears. Thank you for sharing this special and intimate moment with us. Love to you all!
Carole says
WOW – powerful and so moving. I am with everyone else when I say I was moved to tears. What a special young woman!
Sarah says
Wow. What a moving post. Brought tears to my eyes. She is one special girl!