A Bad Week

I’m glad this one’s over.

All but one of Jack’s fish died this week.  After owning a fish tank since last June, Jack is no stranger to fish death.

We have a fish graveyard in the flowerbed behind our house, for goodness sake, with sweet little tombstones marked with the names of Deb, Christopher, Gibby, Mr. Fishy Wishy the First, and Molly Wolfe.

This is an old photo.  All fish mentioned above not yet represented by gravestones.

A few weeks ago Deb died, so we bought Jack a replacement fish, whom he lovingly named Sierra. 

Now we hate that hussy, Sierra, because we think she introduced some bad fish disease to the tank.  It all started with our bala shark, Hagrid.  All of a sudden he got huge, like he seriously grew an inch overnight, and then started doing a crazy swimming dance in the tank.  Mr. Fishy Wishy the Second was next, and he’s the one Jack cried the most over.

Here’s Mr. Fishy Wishy the Second watching an episode of Spongebob on Jack’s iPod:

                                        RIP, Mr. Fishy Wish…you were loved.

Then Sierra died, and Jack was kind of happy.  He hadn’t bonded with her yet, and he feels kind of bitter toward her, as you can imagine.  The only fish left is Alex, our sucker fish.  I actually kind of blame Alex for this whole mess, because, thanks to him and his excellent tank cleaning skills, I haven’t had to clean the tank for awhile, and, quite frankly, I’m worried that that is the reason they all died.  The tank looks great, but it was kind of neglected.  (Shh.  Don’t tell Jack.  I’m letting Sierra take the fall for this one).

On top of all that, my sweet, perfect Aunt Betty died last night.  I’ve mentioned her before, you can read here where I’ve linked any post that’s mentioned her…just keep scrolling down.  Aunt Betty is my mom’s sister.  My parents didn’t go out much when I was little, but when they did, and when we found out the babysitter would be Aunt Betty, I was always so happy!  Aunt Betty didn’t just plop you in front of the t.v. or act annoyed that you were there.  She pulled out the board games and the dress up box and the snacks and we played and ate up a frenzy!  Aunt Betty was the queen of games.  As adults, we all rolled our eyes when she’d get everybody involved in a game (and we rolled our eyes even more while we played because she’d be disorganized and not have everything she’d need or she’d forget the rules).  Every Christmas she’d bring a big basket with her to the Christmas party, and we’d giggle at the selections…some new things (candy bars, sticker packs, socks with labels), but you could tell she was also cleaning out her drawers with a lot of the things in there (half used candles, a  mug from her trip to Canada 20 years ago, socks without labels)!  Parties aren’t going to be the same anymore, I’ll tell you that.

Aunt Betty suffered a stroke in December, from which never really bounced back.  She never went home again, and was never really her old bubbly self again.  She asked often, “Why won’t Jesus just take me to see Henry?”  And now I think she’s probably with Uncle Henry and her granddaughter Katie, and getting the angels all involved in a crazy game, and so, so happy.

We will all miss her so much.