Protecting David

I knew from an early age there was something different about David. He was quiet and shy and while not a wall-flower he never joined in the mischief that is typical of young boys. Even as a boy he was less than worldly.

The first time I ever had to stand up for David was when he was 6. I was stationed in Yuma and we had him enrolled in PSR. One day after class I went to pick him up and the teacher asked me very gently "is there something wrong with him? Is he mentally slow?" I asked "why?" and she said because he would not respond to her questions. I answered curtly there was nothing wrong with David. I was hurt and angry because I knew even then that the world would be cruel to him and it would be my mission to protect him from these hurts.

His shyness was routinely an area of trouble at school at St. Lawrence, a small school where a kid like David stood out. David had his friends but one boy in particular, Adam, was his tormentor making David the butt of his jokes and cruelty. Through it all he just smiled that David smile, never betraying any hurt. I ached for him but I knew we could not intercede to every incident.

In the 90s we were very active in our small parish of St. Lawrence the Martyr. The biggest event of the year was the Fall Festival, an event that was cherished by our children as the event of events that was looked forward with great anticipation. In the week before the festival teachers would have to close the classroom blinds to keep distracted eyes from gazing at the rides gathering in the parking lot. Excitedly, kids schemed who they'd hang out with, what they'd eat and what rides they'd go on.

One fall day around 1996 I was working in the kitchen at the church during the festival when one of the ladies came looking for me. We had a bingo game going in the parish hall and it was filled with a couple of hundred people mostly elderly sitting at tables playing. Apparently, a friend of the bingo caller had become visibly intoxicated and was not only being disruptive and rude, he was helping himself to beer from the tap without paying. Having ignored others requests to settle down or leave they summoned me.

I walked up to the caller's table and said firmly "come on buddy let's go, you're outta here". He looked at me in his drunken stupor and said loudly "Get the hell out of here and take your fat ass son with you!". I whipped around flushed with anger as I realized for the first time that David had followed me into the hall. David was 12 at the time and if he had heard what the man said he didn't betray it but my reaction was swift and immediate.

I turned back around and reached across the folding table the man was sitting behind. I grabbed the man by his collar and with one hand unceremoniously pulled him out of his chair and across the table. Then in front of 200 stunned people I dragged him kicking and screaming across the gym to the door; picked him up by the collar and belt and opened the exit door with his head. Once outside I dropped him on the ground near two police officers. The man tried weakly to punch me and I pushed him back on his butt with my foot. The officers quickly escorted the man off the church grounds.

When questioned by police I told them exactly what happened and the police officer told me he'd have done the same thing though they did ask me to take the rest of the night off. The man reportedly wound up at the emergency room (though I doubt he really needed it). I have never been sorry for how I handled that incident and would do it again. David and I never discussed that day in later years but I'm sure it left an impression on him and I know he must have felt protected knowing his father would do anything for him.

At his funeral his cousin Gabe told me a story about David in grade school. He said that my view of David as a push-over was not quite accurate and he told me a story about David and Adam, his tormentor. One day after several years of problems David had finally had enough and at recess he summoned his cousin Gabe and Val Edwin. He told them about what was going on and asked them to take care of Adam once and for all. David did not have a bigger protector than Gabe and nobody loved a scrape more than Gabe. Gabe said David wasn't so much asking a favor as he was acting like a "Don" getting a task done without getting his hands dirty! I loved that image.

Gabe told me that shortly thereafter he and Val made it clear to Adam that leaving David alone for good would be the healthy choice. Apparently Adam got the message because David did not have any more problems after that.

Over the years I know there were other hurtful incidents but David never made an issue of it. When people teased him about his size or shyness and tried to provoke him he just smiled and ignored them. He chose to be above the meanness and pettiness of the world. As a result he had a wide circle of very loyal friends who loved him as he was and for who he was. Each was protective of David and yet I suspect he did not need as much protection as we thought.

Parents protect, it is the most basic of our duties. I feel like I did that and feel good that David felt secure in life. But I learned something from David as well. David taught me that his real strength was his fortitude and his ability to endure and deflect perceived harm and that the things I thought he cared about he didn't. He was loved by those he loved and that's all that mattered. David lived a Christian life.

An Acorn For Dave

It has been nearly five months since David passed away. The reality of his death hangs over our family like an unwelcomed guest. His absence in our lives is as large as his body was in life. We miss his smile, his laugh, his friendship and the calming effect and the balance he brought to our family. His birthday and the approach of Christmas brings these losses even more to the forefront as we confront the hole his death has left . Events, days, celebrations, traditions, moments, memories recalled. We miss David beyond words. We miss him privately and as family and friends.

When people ask me how I’m doing I explain that I don’t have good days or bad days, I’m still at the point of having good and bad “moments”. Our love comes pouring out every day in tears and laughter. It is in the loss of someone that you experience love at its deepest. It is here that you understand the pain of Christ on the cross.

We all mourn David’s passing differently but in sorrow there is so much we can learn from children. In a child there is an uncorrupted and unsoiled belief in God that shows us hope. Jesus said “Amen, I say to you, whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it” Luke 18:16.

AJ’s strength in the face of David’s death has inspired me. That he misses his brother is obvious. It is AJ who coined the phrase “driving cloud cars” and often talks about how David (whom he now calls “Dave”) is with us but invisible. He now proudly sits in David’s spot in the dining room and he routinely “hugs” his brother by holding his arms out in a big circle. These small moments give me hope and direction to be more accepting and trusting in my faith. But sometimes it is in the smallest of gestures that we learn the biggest lessons.

We visit David’s grave nearly every day, me in the morning and Nancy with the kids after school. While his mother and Alex pray AJ usually rolls down the hill above the grave, but he always spends part of the time looking for acorns which are like little jewels to him.

One morning recently I walked up to the grave as I always do and neatly sitting at the foot of the little cross we had placed were three little acorns. That afternoon Nancy and I asked AJ if he had placed them there and he nodded his head and said quietly they were for “Dave”.

We have decided to confront David’s death head-on. We talk about him, we celebrate him, we honor him. Some are quiet and introspective, some are full of tears but we are all full of love for the brother who awaits us in heaven.