He ain't heavy

As I reflect on the last six weeks or so I began to think about the things I've done that have brought me the most joy and that have kept the hounds of grief at bay the most. And, without a doubt, it has been time spent with the children. Oddly enough, kids are the ones who most often say those inappropriate things that make the adults cringe. But when they do I consider it a teachable moment and I never take offense. I've had little ones ask about my wife, about my daughter, and about death. They ask why I wear the extra rings on my fingers (Wanda's wedding bands) or why, as a boy, I'm wearing a necklace (Beth's). I recognize that some people who are grieving may be offended, but I chalk it up to the curiosity of children. 

After Beth passed, a sweet girl met Wanda and I for dinner with her family. She came up to me, gave me a hug, told me she missed Beth, and asked, "Why her die?" Another time,while having dinner with friends, one of their wee ones looked at me and with a smile simply said, "Your wife died." She said it with an innocence that I couldn't help but love. My feelings were not hurt and I told her father that it was fine. I mean, it's not like I had forgotten. It sits on the front of my brain and presses continually on the back of my eyeballs forcing moisture to escape. 

My favorite children to spend time with are, without question, my own nephews and nieces. They miss their cousin and, especially now, miss their Aunt Wanda. They hug and kiss. They hug and cry. And sometimes they just hug. They somehow sense the pain I carry and try to lift a little on their own frail and tiny shoulders. And the amount of grief they can lift is Herculean. 

My next group of children that help assuage some of the pain are the many children that call me Uncle Kevin in my church nursery. I get hugs from most and occasionally one of them needs me to hold him or her for most of the Sunday morning I have them. Or, perhaps, it's me that needs to hold them and they just know it. As a matter of fact, I'm sure that's exactly what it is. 

The last group of children to bless me have no idea of my story. I don't know most of their parents and the parents don't know me as anyone other than Coach Kevin. That group is the boys on the tee ball team I help coach. Most of the time it is like herding cats, but the smiles on their faces when I tell them, as well as the boys on the opposing team, how good a job they've done, get me through an entire evening. Just recently I was asked by one of the mothers if I was going to help coach during the Spring because she really liked the way we (me and the other coaches) handled the kids. I mentioned this to the head coach and he said the bidding starts at $100.

I will gladly pay more than that for the privilege.