A lesson on life...and death

Last year, we ordered Painted Lady Butterfly larva (aka caterpillars) and had an amazing experience watching the very tiny caterpillars grow into very large caterpillars, change into a chrysalis, and emerge as a bright beautiful butterfly.

Last years end result was four perfect butterflies and one not-so-perfect but still remarkably amazing butterfly from the five live larva that we received.

This picture was taken on their release date:

Butterfuly release, 2012

This years’ experience was a little different – with absolutely no fault lying with the distributing company.  It took nearly two weeks for the live sample to reach our house.  After two weeks in the postal system, our little larva had already grown into large larva and the frass (waste product) had clumped into a ginormous pile, burying one of the caterpillars.  The remaining four were perched upon the top of the container, never daring to come down to their fallen comrade.  Within minutes, another of the caterpillars fell from the top and died (or so I thought…more on that in a moment…).  By the next morning, the caterpillars had still not come down to the bottom of the container to eat – two of their kind was already lying dead in their food supply (I wouldn’t want to eat either!).  Another of the caterpillars dropped from the top and died (or so I thought…).  That afternoon, I spoke with Insect Lore and they apologized and sent out a new culture.  By nightfall, one of the remaining caterpillars formed a “j”, the other stuck tight to the roof of their containing, not daring to reach below for food, where now three caterpillars lay in stiff, curled positions.

When I woke in the morning, both caterpillars were in their “j” and I actually caught one of their going through the final molting stage.  Since Eli and Lucy had gotten to see nothing but the death of caterpillars to this point, I thought this would be excellent for learning.  After watching about two minutes of the process, the kids got a little bored with the strange undulations of the caterpillar and went to play.  I continued to watch for the remaining ten minutes of the process.  It was amazing.  Eli and Lucy were both very excited to see what still looked like a caterpillar ten minutes ago now looked like this:

A lovely Painted Lady chrysalis.

Chrysalis of the Painted Lady

By afternoon, the second caterpillar pupated, too, but came loose from the top and hung stuck in the silks that formed something of a trapeze below him (or her).

I was also stunned to see that two of the caterpillars that I had thought dead actually pupated while laying on the frass and food supply below.  I carefully removed both of these from the food and placed them on a paper towel to observe them and see if they will be able to undergo metamorphosis.  Unfortunately, one the two only pupated halfway. 

Spring is so magical as everything that appears dead throughout the winter bursts into colorful life.  The butterfly experiment has also shown our kids that things aren’t always as they appear – the once active caterpillar slows and then stops completely.  I remember Eli asking me last year if they had died as we were anxiously awaiting the next stage of life – and he was so surprised when he woke one morning to find that they had changed!  When it came time for the emergence of the butterflies, a new lesson was learned.  How did something so lowly and common as a non-distinct black caterpillar change into something so unique and beautiful?  It is as if they were granted a second life to soar above where they once crawled.

Look closely at the molt left behind (to the left), it is the old face of the caterpillar.

This year, as we anxiously anticipate the rebirth of our caterpillars, we also are left with learning a lesson on death.  Death is a part of life, as unpleasant as it may seem.  Both kids were very sad to see the dead caterpillar, and were devastated to see two more fall from the top and appear to be dead also.  There is a significant chance that these two caterpillars will never emerge as butterflies, but remain stuck in the chrysalis.  If they do emerge, there is more than a significant chance that they will be deformed and never fly – an easy meal for one of the many birds that frequent our feeders.

Two of the caterpillars that formed their chrysalis on the frass and food supply.  The one on the right is halfway between caterpillar and pupae.

Eli asked if the caterpillars were sick like Pi and if that was why they died.  Can insects get cancer, too?  I don’t really know.  And it made me wonder if we really explained death enough to Eli while we were in the throes of it, or if we left too much unsaid.  So now, during the butterfly experiment, we approach the subject again, but less emotionally.  Eli specifically requested that we have a funeral for those that died.  When I asked him why, he said “because it is just sad”.  I guess even at an early age, we grasp the concept that the funeral is more for those who are left behind than for those who leave us behind.