Carol and I went to a neighborhood friend’s annual Christmas
party last night where the main activity is a silly white elephant gift
exchange. It is typically a fun and
sometimes raucous time, with a lot of laughing and joking about the various and
most ridiculous gifts.
We saw several casual neighborhood friends at this party,
including one couple in particular who were part of our generation of families
that we tracked with in schools beginning at Montview preschool when Daniel was
there. As is often the case, it was
interesting how Daniel came up in conversation and how bringing him up at first
created one of those awkward moments in the middle of otherwise surface-level,
pleasant small talk.
When this moment comes, I am often struck by the fact that I
want to let the subject come up – I want to acknowledge Daniel and his death so
much more than the other person seems to be comfortable doing at the time. In fact, I often am almost just waiting for
the first natural opening in the conversation to mention or acknowledge Daniel
and the fact that he died, especially when I am in a situation where his life
was a central part of what brought us into a relationship with another family
such as the one we were chatting with at this party.
Acknowledgement is such a huge thing in this process and it
is intriguing to me how much I want it and how much it seems that others do not
want to give it to me. No one seems to wants
to bring Daniel up, so I often feel like making sure that I create an
opportunity to do so. (In last night’s
case, it was pretty easy since this other father had to be reminded that his
second son and Daniel were classmates from preschool on.)
Sometimes this urge to bring the topic of Daniel up in a
conversation almost feels like an obsession to me, but most of the time it feels
very natural and very much an imperative – I have to do it in order for a conversation
to feel complete. Daniel was a huge part
of our family’s life when he was alive and in reality, he continues to be a
significant part of our life even though he has been gone now for more than two
years.
I really don’t understand why people often seem a bit
shocked to hear me say his name, especially since in my own mind I am still thinking
about Daniel almost constantly. To me,
talking about him is very natural, but to others, talking about my dead son
seems to make them very uncomfortable.
Whatever the case, I will not stop acknowledging his life
and death and the impact that this had on my heart and on our family. This is a reality that is larger than most people
seem able to imagine – I certainly cannot comprehend it – why would others be
able to?
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