I've only seen two dead yellow garden spiders, but each one taught me some things about how to say goodbye.
The very first garden spider I ever saw built its web on my parents' front porch when I was 14. I thought it was cool, and I enjoyed seeing it there in the morning. However, I didn't realize how vulnerable it was to cold weather, so I was surprised and saddened to find it dead one chilly fall morning.
I never had the chance to say goodbye to that first garden spider, and I didn't see another until six years ago. Since 2017, I have seen a lot of garden spiders, but none of them built their webs near a house, so I didn't see them after they had died.
As I looked at the spider's egg sack and then at the spider, I realized that the eggs were its goodbye. It had done what it needed to do to fulfill its life (maybe that's why it didn't seem distressed by what I'm sure it knew was about to happen). The eggs were protected under the eaves, promising more garden spiders next year.
I told the spider that she had done a great job securing her eggs, that I was glad she had chosen this house as the place to put them, and that I would look after them. Then, I said I would miss her and told her goodbye. The next morning, she was dead. I was sad, but this sadness was different than the kind I experienced when I was 14. Although I was saddened by her death, I wasn't unprepared this time. I knew that in our own ways, we'd both said our goodbyes. As a result, I felt a loss but not a total bereavement.
We can all learn something from how spiders say goodbye.
