death

I used to believe…

My dog was knocked down and killed by a car when I was about 8 and my dad took it to his work to be 'buried'.
I imagined my dad digging a hole and placing poor 'Prince'in the ground with maybe a tear in his eye and a short prayer.
My dad however, worked for the local cleansing department, his job was to burn the rubbish.
It took me up until I was about 25 to work out that my poor dog had been thrown in the fire with the rubbish and cremated.
The same fate met my rabbit when it died.
Parents eh!

I once asked my mum if they would still print what page the bingo numbers were on in the Sun newspapers front page, if the queen died.
I was convinced that the bingo numbers were so highly important that nothing would stop them being on the front page,
as evertime I saw the paper they were on it or so I thought.
Hope that makes sense!

I used to believe…

A religious friend of mine in grade 1 told me that if I pointed to a cemetary, my finger would shrivel and fall off. I didn't believe him, so for years, I would point at every cemetary I could find. This habit continued well into my twenties.

I used to believe that my Grandad died as a result of showing off to my Grandma one day on holiday in Scotland. My Grandma was sitting in a boat on a lake and my Grandad tried to jump from an overhanging cliff into the boat to impress her. He nearly made it, but caught his leg on the side of the boat, broke his leg and died. It was only a few months ago that I realised that this story is a mix of several different family stories that I had obviously overheard while very young, with a healthy measure of pure fantasy. He actually died of a heart attack, which is much less inetersting....

I used to believe…

When I will little I use to believe my mum would be around forever - she died when I was 13.

I grew up in New Zealand and one spring we got a pet lamb that we named 'rascal'. I was three at the time and loved feeding him from his bottle. He went away in Autumn and I cried until Dad told me would be back to have a holiday with us again next Spring. This went on until I was 8 and my brother told me that the lovely roasts every Winter were the lamb I had fattened every spring and it wasn't the same lamb! I went off lamb chops for about 2 whole days (they were my favourite)

I used to believe…

Mr brother told me my cat had died because i left the microwave door open and hed been cooked to death. Little bugger.

I used to believe…

When I was 4 two of my cats disappeared... we lived by a lake and I was convinced Ginger and Stripey had gone fishing and liked it so much they stayed by the lake and lived happily ever after.

I only remembered and realised how silly that was when I was in my teens, doh.

I used to believe…

During our long journeys in the car to the annual family holiday in Wales, my brother and I would argue the whole way, (as all siblings do). To keep us quiet my Dad told us to play "spot the dead donkey"; thus the journey was spent looking out of the window for a donkey on its back with all legs in the air!

I used to believe…

this wasn't mine, but my uncle's.

in the 50's when he, the first-born of the family, was about 5 years old, my grandparents hired
a painter to paint a picture of him. because all people in the portraits he had seen during his short life were
already dead, he thought that being painted meant always getting killed. if I remember correctly he
had the most creepiest thought that portraits in general were made OUT OF PEOPLE.
when the day of the artist's arrival came closer, my lil' uncle became more and more depressed.
my grandparents were naturally excited about this whole project and counted days
as my uncle grew more and more anxious. finally, he burst into tears and
sobbed " please, mom and dad, I don't want to die...".
well, the things were sorted out and explained to him finally, the painting completed
and the dreaded portrait still hangs on his wall.

I used to believe that the school rabbit liked the red berries that grew in the hedge. But then he died.

I used to believe…

as a kid I was once given the job of looking after the school goldfish at half term. unfortunately two of them died so my mum feely guilty replaced them with 3 new ones. when I told the teacher what happened she said that's all right, we used to have one - now we've got seven. for several years I thought she meant they had babies.

I found out the old guy who lived next door had died, and had been cremated. One day not long after we were driving into Lancaster and my Mom pointed out the hospice to me. It had all these silver pipes running in and out of one side of the biggest building. I thought that they pushed the dead oldies into these pipes and they landed in the incinerator. I found out (years) later that these were air-conditioning ducts.

i used to believe when someone died their image on photo's would disappear

I used to believe…

One day our neighbour was walking his 4 year old son to school. Along the way the little boy spotted a bird in the gutter, so he gave it a nudge with his toe. When it didn't move he asked his father why it didn't fly away. His father explained that the bird was broken (i.e. dead). Instead of getting upset the little boy said firmly "It's alright Dad, the man will fix it." No matter how hard his Dad tried to tell him that the bird couldn't be fixed the little boy was adamant. The next day when they walked the route to school again the bird was gone so the boy turned to his dad and said "See! The man fixed it" and smiled smuggly.

I used to believe…

My dead tortoise was buried in the garden - next spring I found a live tortoise at the same point - unbeknown to me my parents had bought another one but told me it was the original one. I believed this until early adulthood!