Her heart stopped. And my heart broke.

“Is she gone?” I asked.

“Yes,” the doctor said with tears cascading over her pale cheeks to drip from her chin.

I threw myself over her soft body like I had seen women of the Middle East do in the midst of bombings, while mourning their dead children.

I wailed like them for our little girl, Katie Scarlett. Only ten years old.

I kissed her head and said, “Good-bye my little girl.” I thought I might not be able to stop sobbing. My adult daughter and my husband moved back to let me hold her close one last time.

I’ve seen death up close before. But, for some reason, this was different.

I asked the doctor, “What happens now?”

She said her body would be picked up and her ashes should be available for us to pick up by the end of the week.

I cannot reconcile myself to this loss. There are so many holes in my life now. Our beautiful Irish girl was gone from us. Our beloved Soft-coated Wheaten Terrier, was not coming home.


Katie Scarlett at one year old
Katie Scarlett at ten years old.




  1. My heart is breaking for you Linda. I hope you can all find comfort in know that others understand your grief and pain. Katy was the sweetest girl, and we will all miss her dearly. Much love to all of you.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I know it’s 4 AM and I shouldn’t be up but saw your post and had to read it. Sat here crying with Baxter at my feet. He’s followed me around all night because we had a huge storm. Made a quiche because I either clean or cook when I am upset, cooking seems more productive. I remember Katie refusing to walk with me. (One of the few students I had in my life that didn’t listen!!! Kind of like our mom, and me. Maybe with our mixed pedigree we, like Katie, have a little bit of Irish in us.) Love you. Cheryl


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s