Many days of motherhood I wished that you were somewhere else in your development. When you were a newborn I *wished* for you to become more interactive. When you were an infant I *wished* for the day that you would sleep through the night. These days, I *wish* for the day that you can fully communicate your feelings to me. I *wish* for the day that you will walk by my side instead of wandering your own way. I *wish* for the tantrum phase to be over.

I know that we should never *wish* for anything other than where we are but I believe its human nature of a mother, just to bring some ease into the situation. Most days I absorb where we are and live for the day but others I have, and do, wish for something.

This week, I have wished for nothing but exactly where you are. Reason being, you suffered your first major loss...but I don't think you even know.

On Monday, daddy and I had to make the horribly difficult decision to put Bear to sleep, at the age of 12. He was sick and in pain so we needed to let him go. It was ultimately the least selfish thing we could do for such a great friend.

He was your first best friend, whether you liked it or not. He watched over you carefully and protected you. He wanted to always be near you and was ever so mindful of you. He slept every night outside of your door, even waking you at times with a brush against your door.


You never loved Bear like I had hoped you would. You were intimidated by his size, and definitely by his bark, but you warmed up to him at times, giving him an affectionate "pat pat" on his head or going to his dog food, grabbing a handful, putting it in his dish, and then calling for him. You tolerated him well, despite your small fear of his large frame.

As daddy took him away in Pop-Pop's van, I explained where he was going and why. I told you he will be in heaven now watching over you. You looked a bit confused and even a bit concerned. After the van pulled away, you asked me several times, "Bear??", and I would explain it again.

A half an hour later, we went back inside the house...and you haven't asked for him since. I tell you a couple times a day that Bear is in heaven now, just as a reminder in case your little brain does ever wonder.

I have been thanking God that you do not cry for him, look for him, continue to want to feed him, or worry about him. It could be that you are perceptive enough to know that he left in that van and he isn't coming back, or maybe you are just too young to realize his absence. Either way, I am so glad this isn't hard on you. My heart couldn't handle breaking enough for the two of us.