Tuesday, April 29, 2008

I DON'T KNOW

Dear Spike:

One day we will walk to the duck pond at the park. And you will see the limp and broken body of a bird, floating among the empty bottles and plastic bags and other garbage near the drainage pipes. And you will ask me what is wrong with the duck.

It is dead, I will say.

You will ask me what that means. I will do my best to tell you. And then you will ask me what happens when we die. And I will tell you the truth.

I don't know.

•••

One day we will be reading the morning newspaper together. And we will come upon a story about a war. We will read of the fighting. And the hatred. And the killing. And you will ask me what it is like to go to war.

It is sad, I will say.

You will ask me why it is that people kill one another. And I will tell you the truth.

I dont know.

•••

One day we will be leaving the parking lot at the market down the street. And you will spot a man on the corner holding a sign that reads: "Homeless and hungry." And you will ask me why the man has no home and no food.

He has no work, I will say.

You will ask me who is to blame. And I will tell you the truth.

I don't know.

•••

One day you will come home from school with your mother. And you will hear us speaking in hushed tones about the call she made to the state's child protective services agency. And you will see the tears welling in her eyes.

You will ask me why your mother is sad. I will tell you it is because she loves her students so much and does not want for them to be hurt. You will ask whether there is anything else we can do to help.

There is not, I will say.

You will ask me why it is that some parents would hurt their children. And I will look deep into your eyes and tell you the truth.

I don't know. Oh God, I don't know.

•••

One day you will ask me why checkers are black and red.

One day you will ask me how we know that dogs are colorblind.

One day you will ask me why birds like to poop on newly washed cars.

One day you will ask me why Band-Aids must hurt so bad when they come off.

One day you will ask me why some people snore when they sleep and some people don't.

One day you will ask me why there are so many magazines in the check-out line at the grocery store.

One day you will ask me how anyone ever managed to get picked up at the airport before we had mobile phones.

One day you will ask me why the sky is blue during the day and black at night and red and pink and purple in the times in between.

And I will tell you the truth.

I dont know.

•••

I am not a stupid man, but I don't know far more that I do know. And the more I come to know, the more I come to know that is true.

This saddens me, a bit, for I would very much like to be able to answer all your questions in a way that will make you feel safe and confident and satisfied and happy. I do not want you to be scared. Or sad. Or angry. Or confused. Or worried.

But the fact is, I'm not going to be able to answer all of your questions.

The fact is, there is so much I simply don't know.

The fact is, there is really only one thing I can tell you for certain.

•••

One day, our family will be walking through the park on a Sunday afternoon. And the carousel will be spinning. And the flag at the center of the park will be flapping gently in the warm breeze. And we will all be holding hands. And you will ask me whether our family is in love.

We are, I will say.

You will ask whether that will always be true. And I will stop and bend down to lift you in my arms and pull you tight into my chest. And I will tell you the truth.

Yes.

I know.

Yes.

Love,
dad

5 comments:

tj sondermann said...

Best!

Shanda Mattsson said...

Wow - That is some great thinking and very honest. I love your thoughts!

eljay716 said...

That was wonderful and so true. I am sorry mom has to go through that.

Leann said...

Just found your blog thru Heather B. I'll be back. Blessings to you and Spike, and of course Mom.

Mae said...

Yes, the hard to answer, "why"---been around for generations and never do they get any easier to answer.

A Grandmother