Farewell, Faithful Fish

It was a solemn scene.

While three of us attended choir practice, my younger daughter stayed home to prepare an order of service and respectfully dressed herself in black. Upon our return, she led the family to the bathroom. As pallbearer, I followed with the fishbowl. A large turquoise towel now covered the great porcelain bowl.

She opened with a short tribute to Preston B. Sturgeon, our beloved goldfish, then had us sing 'As the deer pants'. It was my privilege to lead us in prayer, and we did so, holding hands around the fishbowl. Each of us said a few words of farewell to honour the deceased. Then the girls left the room, and my husband ceremoniously removed the turqoise towel and sent Preston on his final journey.

The tears of my daughters over the death of this little pet were wiped away by the comfort of ritual and their knowledge that they had acted rightly to observe this passing. I know that I will never be able to relate this story without a certain quirk at the corners of my mouth; I also know that in standing in that little family circle in the bathroom, we were in the thin place near to God.