Friday, October 02, 2009
Hide and Seek
At work today I watched a group of pre-schoolers playing hide and seek in the school yard. Their joy was beyond purity. There were other kids off doing their singular play-time things in the sand box, on the slide and in the play house. There was this one boy, the "it" kid who was running and laughing as he discovered his hiding little friends. Everybody got along. It was at that precise moment that I realized that nothing in life can compare to the security a much loved child feels. Nothing. Their world is solely that. Theirs. They should never know sadness or pain during that precious time when mommy and daddy can fix anything and worry only extends to finding a lost toy or putting a band aid on a boo-boo. Tears should always be easily dried and happy play resumed with that magic kiss that makes it all better.
I mention this today as I grapple with understanding my brother's brutal murder on September 8th. He had two sons - age 2 and 5 - who now have to deal with a loss that will change them forever. Their sense of safety, their understanding of how the world works - annihilated by a psycho's steel blade.
My brother was a big guy. Around 6'4" and 270 pounds. He was soft like a teddy bear. Every night, for the first five years of his life, his son was lulled to sleep as he lay on his father's massive warm chest listening to him breathe, safe in the knowledge that tomorrow would bring new adventures for him and his daddy.
My brother was a stay at home father and was with his boys through all of their child crises and joys. He was their teacher, playmate and best friend. Their biggest fan. In short, their world. Now their world is gone. How does anyone make sense of that?