Today, I awoke to my son's best friend, his guinea pig, barely breathing and lying limp in his cage. With everything going on in the world, Jerry, the guinea pig, has become my boy's support animal. I ran downstairs to get my husband to tell him what was going on and rushed back upstairs, where my son was still sound asleep in his bed. I opened the cage and held this amazing little creature, who I've grown quite fond of, and noticed that he was cold to the touch. I held him gently against my chest and woke my son to tell him what was going on. Peter sat on the floor, Indian style, and his sister, Lucy, brought in a little blue blanket for Jerry. This blanket is used for Jerry every time she'd babysit him, as she liked to cradle him like a baby. She placed the blue blanket on Peter's leg and I laid Jerry on top of the cloth.

My boy's hand sat gently on his guinea pig's chest as he screamed. "NO. NO.NO."

Every now and then, Jerry would twitch and we'd all jump, waiting for him to magically get back up and run around the room, like he always did, with the squeaks that delighted us to no end. But, he didn't, and I could tell we didn't have much time with him. Getting him to the doctor would be too late. Peter held him, embracing that time with his guinea pig. At one point, as my boy cried, Jerry tried to lift his own head for a brief moment and gazed right at Peter. My boy looked at him and paused. "Jerry, I want you to let go so you're not in pain anymore. I don't want you to hurt. It's okay." My eight-year-old boy, said this with so much love and compassion in a time where he was hurting the very most.

The guinea pig moved again.

My oldest, Belle, was not having this dying thing and quickly turned to the computer to find all the ways we could save him. Her passion and fight came in hard and angry. "Don't give up. He's probably dehydrated."

I smiled, knowing this was her way of coping with trauma. I fed off her fighter energy. Holding Jerry lightly, I began placing water, in his already wide open mouth. Upon doing that, I saw some build up in his throat. I had a sudden urge that I could save him. I asked my hubby to grab my tweezers. He brought them to me and held the flashlight on his phone steady, right at Jerry's mouth. Carefully, I pulled out the buildup from his throat. The guinea pig seemed to move a tad more, and it even appeared that he was trying to breathe as I worked to clear a pathway. I'm in no way a veterinary or doctor, just a momma wanting to save a member of her family. All of this happened so quickly. I cleared his pathway, and the guinea pig started throwing up. We thought that was a good sign, but shortly after he passed away.

I felt anger, sorrow, pain, and loss, but also love and gratitude.

Our guinea pig seemed fine a few days ago. He was running around chasing us through the kitchen. We laughed and he wheeked(That's what you call a happy guinea pig sound). I wondered what happened. How I could have saved him. If I could've done something differently? We had no idea this was coming.

Uncertainty.

Uncertainty everywhere.

Today, was a breaking point for me. I had been okay, taking it one step at a time, adapting with what felt good to me and my family, and then watching my boy today, latched deep sorrow into my heart.

For him.

For our family.

For the world.

I screamed at the sky tonight, unleashing the hurt and pain. I wondered how many have also yelled up at the same sky. How many have wondered those very same questions I just asked myself.

Why?

What happened?

How can I save these people?

What could I have done differently?

I cried.

I thought about the sweet gift that we had earlier with that guinea pig before he passed. The gift of presence and time. I continued thinking about all that I did know and all that I appreciated.

I'm so grateful for all those who are working overtime through this uncertainty in the world, to save as many people as they possibly can. Putting their lives on the line, for a common mission. Being the ones to keep on fighting for those who don't have the strength. Day in and day out. I can't even imagine how difficult that is and has been. Thank you!

I'm so grateful for all the moments that I have to share with my loved ones.

I'm so grateful for what is working that I can see every day.

I'm beyond grateful for what I do know, and that is LOVE can move mountains and be the light in some very dark places.

I'm fighting for the light, love, and good in the world as there's much.