The Fish Who Lived

Last year my teenage daughter bought her younger brother a Betta fish for his birthday. It was the perfect gift. My son was going through some difficult transitions at school at the time, which were triggering all sorts of past trauma. The fish, named Captain America for his reddish, blueish scales and heroic demeanor, formed a sort of living, healing connection. And also the fish tank had a nightlight. To ward away monsters.

Fish = love. Fish love.

Then the fish died. Er...I mean...took a nap. Because death triggers all sorts of trauma-related issues that we were not prepared to add to our already stressed situation. So I zoomed the sleeping fish to the pet store and got a replacement reddish, blueish fish along with about a gazillion water testing and treatment products to ensure the most optimal environment for Captain II. Crisis averted.

Until that fish also promptly died.

Seriously! "I cannot handle dead fish right now!" I calmly explained hysterically yelled to the pet store worker. We decided to move Captain America III (the neighborhood pet store was out of reddish blueish Betta fish, so we had to cast our nets wider) out of the filtered, lit, decorated tank into what was essentially a large vase with a few rocks. "It's like a vacation condo," I told my son. And, "Yes, he does look a little smaller. But it's probably just because his tank is a little smaller."

Captain III eventually moved from the vase to the fish tank (thoroughly cleaned and redecorated. We determined there was something wrong with the gravel in the original setup) and now to a tank with a built in vacuum that Grandma gave him for Christmas. Captain III celebrates his one-year anniversary with us this weekend. Just yesterday my son said, "Wow, I already had another birthday. Captain's lived a long time. I didn't think fish lived that long." He has no idea.

Captain III has seen my son through more transitions this year - from changing schools to the death of our old dog, Scout, to just this month a tragedy in the family of his beloved teacher necessitating a substitute for several weeks as well as the sudden illness of an indestructible friend.

Just this morning, as we fed Captain III a couple of Betta bites I marveled at the healing that has transpired this year, and how he has managed these current triggers with a sense of confidence that hints at a growing knowledge that no matter what happens in this world, he is loved.

So I nudged an extra Betta bite into the tank and thanked God for his healing power shown to us most graciously through the fish who lived.