the proverbial curveball

life inevitably throws these your way every now and again, that's just how it works. people have their own ideas of why they exist, but i've yet to meet somebody who would deny them altogether. and i'm fairly certain i never will.

tonight's pitch was a major league doozie. a real humdinger, harry caray might say.

what exactly do you do when your child comes home from school and tells you a friend stood up before class to tell everyone that her 9 year old brother is going to die? i'm convinced asking ten people may give you ten (or more) answers but it would appear as if most would agree that life doesn't exactly prepare you for these moments. it's not as if i recall finding a special section in the library (come to think of it, one probably does exist but i just never looked for it) on death and dying and how to "go there" with your young children.

the only reaction i knew to have was keep things simple and speak in plain truth. suppose that much was achieved, only not directly. think flea-flicker in football (i know, another damn sports analogy) and you wouldn't be far from reality. in that designed play the momentum shifts backward before it's launched forward, with the only real difference here being that it was not called as a form of trickery. no, more like fumbling for and eventually finding words to land on the heart of the matter.

it's almost more difficult at times to have conversations with children when they're choked up and on the verge of emotional release (whatever theirs may be) than a full blown outburst, at least it feels that way to me. my son doesn't know the affected child much at all, but he feels something in his heart (his words, as i listened with a tinge of pride) for the boy's sister. she is a good friend and very kind according to my son's exact words. he said he is most sad about the fact that this little girl won't get to be with her brother any longer. i later discovered that he wasn't exactly sure what that meant, and honestly i didn't come up with the best way of explaining it.

there's the whole life after death (on earth) concept that i'd love for my son to understand if/when he's ready, but i felt a pang of pressure that was unsettling. as an adult i don't fault my own parents for the way i was raised, but i've since become aware of how i would have liked to find my own values and morals in life instead of having them handed to me, at least as it directly relates to religion. religion is something i admittedly have issue with to this day, mainly because of how it feels as if i would simply be modeling what was "given" not "chosen" in my adult life (if i were to, that is) instead of coming to these terms in my own time and ways. all this to say that it's difficult to have the "heaven" talk with my son because i tread thinly on that line of conditioning versus modeling.

maybe that's best explained as i'd like my son to take more from what's "caught" in life, not "taught." again, on the basis specifically of what beliefs he'll have and hold onto for seemingly the duration of his life.

i have many friends that have said in their own ways my decision to gingerly discuss matters of faith is a direct conflict to my faith itself. i'm prone to disagree but not on the grounds one might imagine. it's just that i don't accept a dogmatic approach to my personal conviction(s), meaning what i feel doesn't necessarily amount to or resemble what another does simply because we have similar values. it's a lot more intimate than that, to me anyway.

i don't doubt my faith anymore than the obvious push/pull of just about anyone that's on a journey, and regardless of the depth or shape of their walk. i believe wholeheartedly in the very things that define my worldview, just that i'm challenged by how to answer difficult questions (for instance, death to a young child) in the context of my faith, when speaking to somebody (in this case - my world, the beat of my heart) in such an impressionable stage of life. to do so without feeling as if i'm making any decisions for him would ultimately be the goal, but i also feel as if he's to the point of yearning for a deeper understanding. he's not asking questions about the greater significance of specific things but we've engaged in many talks where he's quite suggestive about his curiosity in general.

with all this said, i didn't really have the after death talk. in fact, the dying aspect alone was enough to drain my emotional bank account, more so because of the aforementioned lamenting than anything else. it was intended to be very matter of fact but i can't (and won't) deny where my son's hurting, and he's not exactly one to be up front about his emotions. more often than not, he will instead withdrawal from things and others. i was the very same way for years, as my parents could attest, but my mom would specifically tell you today about how damaging that would become for me later in life. i don't want that same residual pain for my son. it took me years to gain balance again after enduring loss and the manner in which i chose to (or not, in this particular case) cope with the void of said people. today, i've developed a far more clear and healthy perspective on separation but not in such a way as having a handle on how to share it with virgin ears, so to speak.

i believe at the end of the day we should not hang our heads if we've honestly given our best, for it's all anyone can ask of us. to that extent, i've at least set the stage and hopefully enough time will pass so i can revisit this with more confidence and purpose.

for now, i'm choosing to find solace in the fictional world of brothers gallagher, more specifically their "live forever" anthem. may not be true in the most physical sense but it's welcome respite, nevertheless.