Bittersweet, Like Chocolate
As expected, our weekend was bittersweet. The Man-Cub’s baseball game on Friday night went very well; the boys beat the only other undefeated team in the league. They were not happy. And, by that, I mean the other team, obviously. Actually, I’m not entirely certain that our boys even realize that they, themselves, are undefeated; they very seldom ask what the final score was after each game, more intent on playing and having a good time than on winning.
Which is as it should be.
The team BBQ after the game was a lot of fun. We grilled hamburgers and hotdogs and played the requisite game of ball and, I didn’t suck. Trust me; I’m as shocked as you are.
Saturday was hard. The funeral was very well attended; standing room only in the church and a procession of cars stretching over a mile between the church and the cemetery.
The mother and sister of The Girl’s friend went out of their way to comfort The Girl; thanking her for being such a good friend to him and encouraging her to stay in touch with them. They told her about finding a silver turtle figurine amid his belongings; a souvenir that he had purchased while on vacation in Mexico back in November. He bought it for The Girl, because he knew how crazy she is about turtles and yet he was too shy to give it to her; no doubt reliving the ribbing his friends had given him when he presented her with a box of chocolates the previous Valentines Day. They promised to drop by the house with the turtle and to visit once things have settled down a bit and then, they introduced The Girl to the extended family who greeted her with open arms, having already heard a great deal about her. I cannot even tell you the comfort their words and actions brought to my daughter. They are good people who have made courageous and selfless decisions in face of a tragedy that I cannot begin to fathom. Their actions have honored Brandon’s life is an amazing way.
It seems appropriate to mention him by name now whereas it didn’t before; I don’t know why. Maybe because; we learned that Brandon’s heart and corneas were donated after his death and, that because of him, an eleven year old girl in Denver has a better chance at a life and two people who were blind, can now see.
Because of Brandon. Not because he died but, because he lived. Because he was the kind of person who would want his death to bring about something good for someone else.
It almost answers why. Almost.
Sunday, the children and I spent the day with Jana’s family at Granny’s house. The kids waded in the creek and chased butterflies and snakes. They collected earthworms and searched for ripe raspberries in the garden and, at the end of the day; I had the privilege of tucking them into their beds and kissing them goodnight.
I was thankful for that chance and grateful for their presence in my life.
Which is why I didn’t rip my hair out by the roots upon the later discovery of earthworms in the bathtub.