These last few days I've been crafting aggressively, mostly to alleviate my grief. ZooAtlanta's giant pandas, Lun Lun, Yang Yang, Ya Lun, and Xi Lun traveled to Chengdu Research Base of Giant Panda Breeding in China last weekend. The panda building at ZooAtlanta is closed and empty.
I was a docent more than twenty years ago when Lun Lun and Yang Yang were young and the hot new thing in town. For a couple years, I spent a few hours nearly every week with them and the people visiting them. I heard panda stories from people who had traveled across the country or around the world just to see giant pandas.
At the beginning, Lun Lun and Yang Yang were sub-adults housed
together. I can remember them playing king of the mountain. Lun Lun usually
won, although Yang Yang was bigger. I could never figure out if she was better
at the game or if he was letting her win? I can recall a panda thudding to the
ground, then climbing right back up as if to say, "That was fantastic! Shove
me off the top again!" And I can remember Yang Yang stealing bamboo from Lun
Lun, because she was more discerning about which pieces were the best ones.
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| my last picture of Lun Lun |
When the pandas arrived, the original loan was for ten years. But then cubs were born. And the lease got extended and extended again. I stopped being a docent before Mei Lan was born, so I never became strongly attached to any of the seven offspring. But I never lost my deep love for Lun Lun and Yang Yang. I attended some but not all of the naming ceremonies. I participated in behind-the-scenes panda encounters as well as a night crawler program with other panda fans. But there were other years I got busy and only saw the pandas every few months. Looking at my computer files, I see most of the time I didn't take pictures. I just watched and enjoyed. Even when I didn't get to the zoo frequently, I checked the panda blog regularly. I think I read every blog post.
Sometimes I would go to the zoo in cool weather, when there were more employees than visitors. I can remember visiting on a quiet day. Yang Yang had propped himself against the glass as he ate his afternoon bamboo. I sat on the floor with just the glass between us. Nobody else was there. Just me alone with the pandas I love.
When bad stuff happened in my life, I would go to the zoo and watch the
pandas. Seeing happy pandas eating or sleeping gave me faith the world
would be okay. The panda exhibit was my happy place.
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| my last picture of Yang Yang |
Last month I went to the zoo on 9 September for Yang Yang's 27th birthday. I thought that would be the last time I saw the bears. But I was able to take time last week on Tuesday to visit again, to say good-bye and farewell. I stood a long time and watched. Lun Lun was napping, but rolling over occasionally. She still has the prettiest face. Yang Yang was waiting for his afternoon feeding. He ran around his enclosure. He got close to the glass and delighted the crowd. And he did a somersault. Even as an old bear, he is still playful.
While I was watching, I heard someone behind me sniffling. She was wearing a
panda t-shirt and jewelry. I asked if she needed a hug. We hugged and cried.
When I finally left the panda building, I knew it was the last time I would
see the pandas in person.
I knew the bears were leaving soon. I had PandaCam turned on my iPad all day Friday. At 6:30 PM, with the view on Lun Lun, it turned off.
Then on Saturday morning, the zoo announced the pandas were on their way. The PandaCam page changed to the Panda Legacy page.
I knew I would cry a bucket of tears when the pandas went away, but I am crying even more than I expected. This is grief. I love Lun Lun and Yang Yang the way I love my own pets. Now they have gone to the other side of the globe. I will not see them again. When I feel grief, I go to the zoo, to my happy place; and I feel better.
But that won't work this time.
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