Remembering Blanche

There is never an easy way to write about death. I had shared earlier this year how Blanch’s health was not good. Since then she has had her ups and downs.

Warm days were the best for her. She would sit in the sun and would feel better. Lately though, that didn’t seem to help as much. She spent more and more of her time to herself and sleeping.

She stayed up in the coop Easter Sunday morning and didn’t come down for breakfast. She just slept, breathing slowly.

When I returned home from Easter worship service, I found she had passed away in her sleep. I had felt it’s what would happen while I was away, when it was just Blanche and Pearl together.

When I picked her up, I found she had lost even more weight these last few days, but her feathers were still pure white, just as white as the Easter lilies had been in church, maybe just a bit more in the afternoon sunlight.

I wrapped her in a piece of cotton quilt batting. It was soft and protective. There really was no reason to hurry. We all took our time saying our “good-byes” to Blanche.

She is buried next to the spot where I like to sit with my chickens in the evening, under the camellias next to the coop where we sit and enjoy each other’s company.

When it is time, we will plant white Easter lilies beside her in the garden next to the lunaria (also called honesty) growing there now. The lilies just seem right for her, though I can’t imagine them being as white and as pure as her feathers were when she would stretch them out in the sun.

Blanche was a good friend. She was so patient and kind towards Pearl, no matter how annoying she got. And she did get annoying! On Blanche’s not-so-good days, Pearl would tell her, “Get up! Get up! It’s time to play!” Blanche would always do her best.

From the time she hatched, Pearl had adored Blanche and was almost always at her side as a sister and a friend.

Out of the kindness in her heart, Blanche struggled to stay with us for as long as she could. She did that for Pearl’s benefit. She knew how lost Pearl would be without her.

We will always remember and love Blanche. She taught us so much.

My Life With Blanche showed me every day the meaning of “love is patient.”

Each post shares a glimpse into my journey as a writer and illustrator. Every “Like,” “Follow,” and “Comment” is truly appreciated!

39 thoughts on “Remembering Blanche”

    1. Thank you, Judi. Your kind and thoughtful words help to make this all a bit easier. “Consider the lilies…” seems especially appropriate right now. Thank you again. John

      Like

      Reply

  5. I’m sorry… I can’t press ‘like’…

    With tears, I write with sorrow about what happened to Blanch. I know the pain of losing a beloved soul and with our critters, the pain oftentimes goes much deeper as they have the ability to wiggle into parts of our hearts and soul that no human being can access. Their endearing love and loyalty to us makes them so special and on a soul level that no human could ever truly comprehend. I regret this profound loss and hope that healing brings some respite to you and the girls soon.

    The lilies that will be planted in fond remembrance of Blanch will no doubt, be the most beautiful lilies ever!

    Gentle hugs to you, friend.

    Liked by 4 people

    Reply

    1. Thank you so much. That truly means a great deal to us because you know about the loss of a loved one, as you may imagine, Pearl is taking it particularly hard, as you might imagine. Friends like you will help us through.

      Like

      Reply

    1. Thanks, Dave. I truly appreciate that. Blanche really was a good example to me of what patience and kindness look like. (Pearl really could try her patience, but Blanche never lost her cool!)

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

    1. Thank you. I really appreciate your kind words. Yes, it is difficult, as I’m sure you know as an animal lover too. I do believe she had a better life here than she would have had at a lot of other places, and she was definitely loved by all of us here and all of you out there. Thanks again.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

      1. You are very welcome. When we had our chickens a few years back, there was one that was what I will call “sickly”. I had named her Tommy. I think an egg was stuck in her. I tried to baby her but in the end she languished and died. I still tear up when I think of her. You’re right, you gave her a kind and peaceful place to pass to the next realm.

        Liked by 1 person

Leave a comment