All creatures great and small

Have you been reading about the Mama Whale here in the Pacific Northwest?

That sounds like the beginning of a setup to a punchline but the story is far from funny.

I can't stop thinking about it.

As of yesterday, which is the latest news report I've found, she has been carrying her dead baby for over a week now. The sweet baby whale lived for a short time after birth and then passed away for reasons no one can determine at this point. Apparently it is common for mother whales to carry a stillborn whale for a day or so after birth, but this length of time has perplexed even those who study these magnificent creatures in depth and at close range.

In the article linked above, the executive director of The Whale Museum on San Juan Island asks this question: "One of my questions to biologists is...'Does grief change once you've met the being that you've carried?" She goes on to say, "So she carried this for 17 months before it was born, and we know that it swam by her side, so there would have been a bonding, a birthing experience...So there's a part of me that believes the grief could be much deeper because they had bonded."

I'm not a biologist but I can most certainly answer that question.

When I first read about this Mama Whale I immediately recalled a field trip with my oldest son when he was in about the 2nd grade. Along with other parents, I was chaperoning a trip to our IMAX theater which was showing some movie about elephants. (Sidenote: Elephants and whales are two of my top five favorite mammals). 

The movie chronicled an elephant family group having to travel a long distance to find water. As all elephant groups are, it was female led and there were so many touching examples of the ways they all look out for one another and care for another. At one point they come across another female elephant whose baby has died. They surround the grieving mother offering her support and comfort as she struggles to leave her calf.

They do finally move on because the baby in their own group is beginning to struggle with the long journey and lack of water. It starts to feel quite perilous and I felt myself growing nervous as to how emotional this movie might become for our little band of 2nd graders.

Although, truth be told, I was probably more nervous for myself.

I wasn't alone. As we reached peak drama in the film my sweet friend Molly, who scarcely ever utters a negative word or thought, leaned forward and whispered in my ear, "I swear to God if that baby elephant dies, I am outta here." 

It still makes me giggle thinking of it. But it's a laughter born of deep solidarity and understanding.

Sometimes you have to laugh just so you don't cry.

Mama Whale, her baby, and their shared story have made me think about a lot of things. Part of me thought I wanted to write more about grief, and loss, and why it is that humans seem more able to extend deep empathy and support to a whale than to another human being, but...I don't really want to.

What I really want most is simply to find some way to communicate to her...

I see you, Mama Whale.

Oh, do I see you.

May you find healing and peace.

As it should have been.
 I hope there is a Whale Heaven and this is what she will find waiting for her someday.