Over the years, I’ve seen this type of question before and, often, I’d answer the question by mentioning people in history who possessed the courage to change the status quo. I’ve also answered with select family members who came and went before I breathed my first breath. I wanted to know their motivations in life and if they could fathom my existence.
It has been four months since our son, David, passed away. I can safely say that he’s the only one I’d want on this bench. And an hour may not be enough time for me. I suspect any parent would say the same. There’s so much I want to say and so much I want to know. I want to tell him about the 50th Anniversary Doctor Who special and how the Doctor regenerated in the Christmas Special. He was looking forward to both. We’d talk about the Super Bowl and the new Avengers movie that’s coming out in 2015. I’d tell him about Macklemore (which he swore was named Michael Moore) and the Grammys. I’d also tell him about the awesome Lego movie that’s in the theater, right now.
There’s much that I’d like to tell him, but so much more I want to know. I’ve always had the habit of asking the kids about their day, enjoying their experiences and giving advice whether they wanted it or not. And David was no different. Like the others, I was always interested in his point of view; how he sees the world. If I could just have one hour, on a bench by the sea or anywhere in the world, I would want a little cheat, that’s all. A preview of what’s to come. Spoilers. Yes, I want David to tell me what Heaven is like. I want to know what he thinks about it. What does he do? What is he expected to do? Does he have a job in Heaven and does it involve battling super villains? I want to see Heaven through a child’s eyes and not through the eyes scarred by life’s misfortune and cynical adulthood. I want to know if he’s met my grandfathers and my grandmother, my uncles, his mother’s grandparents and uncles.
As any parent wants their children to be happy, I want to see his joy. I want to see him truly alive in a way that we cannot be. I want to touch him, hug him, and kiss him just once more. I want to tell him what he already knows, that I’m proud to be his father and that I love and miss him. And that I can’t wait until the day when our reunion is not bound by time.
Along the Way 
This post made me think of this quote from the 10th Doctor —
“Some people live more in 20 years than others do in 80. It’s not the time that matters, it’s the person.”
That’s an awesome comment, Kevin. Thank you and thanks for reading.
It fascinates me how profoundly answers to questions like these change over time. The reasons for these changes may vary but bit by bit they evolve to reflect the you that you’ve become. I find beauty in that growth.
I agree. Thank you for reading and commenting.
This is a very special post. I shared this pic on my facebook recently and when I did I absolutely knew my “person” would be my sister. As I read this and pondered all of the things you wanted to ask your son, I pondered the fact that when I thought of sitting on that bench with my sister I would want to tell her all of the things I’m doing… selfish, perhaps, but then I remember my sister a certain way. She was the one who always thought of me, of our family, of her loved ones. THEY were the things she wanted to talk about and to know about. So maybe my musings are not so much selfish, but more just a comfortable reflection of the memory I have of her. Thank you so much for sharing.
I think you’re right, Olivia. Thank you so much for reading and commenting.
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