My boys were playing, imagining, chasing, tagging, and giggling. Another family entered the scene, and my kids swept their kids into the imagination unveiled.
As they played and climbed way up high, Tucker said to his new friend, “My daddy died. He died at Christmas.”
In the next instant, overhearing the conversation, the parents quickly gathered their children. They evacuated the scene so quickly, as if my children had burst forth with a string of obscenities.
My son’s light mention of a bitter truth was outside the realm of today’s topics for that family. Apparently they intend to guard their children from, well, everything.
Good luck with that.
Death isn’t contagious. Joy is.