No Resolution

Isaiah wanted a duck.
We live in the country, and a pet duck fits.
So, among a box of chicks, one small mallard duckling arrived.

Have you ever seen a duck up close?
The drakes have the reputation for fineness,
With their green heads and noble bearing.

In the bird world, the ladies lose the plumage war.
(Depending on your perspective: their
Camouflage helps hide them from predators.

Perhaps a worthwhile trade?)
But up close Mrs. Mallardy was a beautiful duck, with an
Iridescent blue band of feathers on the tip of each wing,

Usually hidden, but revealed at times.
The speckled brown feathers on her breast
Were thick and warm, downy and soft.

Isaiah could catch her and carry her around, his little pet.
This idyllic scene lasted half a year, until a dog attack
On a rainy January day killed Mrs. Mallardy.

I had never seen my child really grieve.
How much I’d rather grieve myself,
Than watch my child weep.

Needing an escape, we went to watch Beauty and the Beast.
The movie terrified the boys: wolf attacks and
A scary Beast were probably best avoided on a day

When such an attack played out in real life.
I had not remembered. The suburbs have no context
For predation and animal terror.

I was horrified to find that this duck’s death
Plunged me in to dark despair deeper than I had ever known.
If His eye is on the sparrow, why not spare the duck?

Had I lost all sense of proper perspective?
Despair for a dead marriage, or a dead child, or a dead spouse,
Those all make sense. They are extreme losses.

But I feel like I failed at grief.
I was devastated by nothing but the death of a duck
And my son’s tears.