Yesterday was one of the saddest days my little family has ever had. I know this whole thing is going to sound overly dramatic... but it's true.
Lincoln loves frogs. He loves to catch them. Loves to hold them. Everything. We would have never guessed but here at our home, in the middle of town, he has been able to find quite a few. His hot spot is a shallow window well on the side of our house. For some reason, the frogs always go in there. He keeps them in an empty ice cream bucket for the day and then lets them go before bed.
Two days ago, he found four. Which is probably the most he's ever found at one time. He recognizes them. "oh mom, these are the two bigger ones and this one is the really little one again". These poor frogs have been caught so many times, I'm sure they're like oh great here we go again. But Lincoln is so gentle with them.
As he went to bed that night, I remembered that we hadn't let the frogs out "Don't worry honey, Dad and I will let them out" I said. Micah and I talked about doing it after he went to bed. But then I went downstairs to work and I heard Micah upstairs watching the Vikings game and doing the dishes (yes!). If you would have asked me I would have said: Yes, I also heard him open the door and go outside to let the frogs out. So I never reminded him because I could have sworn I heard him do it.
Fast forward to the next afternoon. Lincoln comes home from school and immediately runs to the window well. Sitting so cutely with his legs hanging down into it. Looking for the frogs. But he doesn't find them. "Oh honey," I say "I know Dad was thinking about letting them go in the grass this time. So maybe they're in the yard" I walk over to the yard and see the bucket sitting in the hot sun, right where it had been in the shade the evening before. Huh... I go and open the bucket with Lincoln standing right next to me. And there they were. His four little frogs. Stretched out. Stiff as can be. Dead.
I gasped because I was shocked and I couldn't hide it from him. Oh, how I WISHED I could have found them earlier and gotten rid of them and then he would have never known. But I couldn't. He opened and closed the bucket and instantly burst into tears. Sobs. He collapsed. Helpless, crying, in my arms.
My head throbbed. Honestly. It was like a massive headache. I felt so terrible for him. Usually, when I see my kid crying my thoughts are along the lines of oh good grief, come on buddy, toughen up, you'll be fine. But that wasn't the case this time. When something bad happens to him (a toy breaks, he doesn't get something, or he gets hurt) my go-to words are "it'll be ok" but I couldn't say that this time. It won't be ok. Those frogs are never coming back. (that was probably all of them because he'd never caught that many at once before) He was heartbroken. I couldn't help but cry with him. When Micah came home, we both cried with him. We were so sorry.
I know, you're probably thinking we're crazy. And rightfully so, who cries over frogs? But truthfully it wasn't that we were crying over frogs. We were crying over our sweet heartbroken boy. And we were to blame.
We love him so much. Seeing him so sad, something he loved and took such good care of, and we killed them. We forgot them. It was terrible.
After a few hours past, we were all doing better. Lincoln had appeared to have moved on. And he is such an optimist. "Asa, it's ok. We can maybe find more" we heard him say. We dumped the bucket of dead frogs into the swamp down by the bike trail. "That's ok mom. Now maybe a snake could eat them".
I started to think maybe it really wasn't that big of a deal at all. Thank goodness. It looks like WE were handling it worse than Lincoln.
That evening as I was tucking them into bed, I prayed for the frogs. And I prayed that we could find more. After I said Amen, Lincoln says "Mom... every time I think of the frogs... tears come in my eyes". Oh, my sweet boy. And it took me right back.
It's funny, I'm the kind of person that gets thoughts and words stuck in my head. I keep thinking them over and over. But once I type them out, it's like I've let them go. I'm free of them. I typed most of this up last night and it really helped me process and feel better. I thought about sharing it but didn't know if I could. How would I ever end it? I have no good news to end it on... Seriously, how could I put a positive spin on this one? I thought. And left it at that. Maybe this would just be filed away in my stash of blog posts that I never have the guts to post. (picture the end of Indiana Jones and the Lost Ark when they store away the Ark of the Covenant with the rest of the government secrets)
Then this morning Micah woke me up. "I found a frog!" I have almost never seen him so excited. "I almost wanna get Lincoln up and go show him," he said. "Do it!" I said. And then two. They found TWO frogs. Thank you, Lord! I know, I know. It's such a small thing. But seriously, thank you Jesus!
Hard life lessons we are learning over here. But we're making it. So to chear you up (and myself) here are a few photos of Lincoln finding frogs at family camp this summer.
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