Bijou

I remember the first experience I had with death.

When I was in kindergarten, my mom checked me out of class. When we got in the car, she said that we had to put our cat, Bijou, to sleep. 

Bijou, means jewel in French. 

When we got to the vet, my mom, my dad, my aunt, and I went inside. 

Now, I am a dog person, but I still loved our little jewel. I shed my share of tears.

I have seen my dad cry twice in my life, and even though he denies it, I still remember him getting teary-eyed as Bijou passed away. The other time was when my grandpa passed away.

Like the end of a good movie, or the last spoonful of ice cream, things we don't want to end, end. However, I'm grateful for the memories.