News comes over the transom – an old high school friend has just entered hospice, a neighbor passed in his sleep, a great teacher has left this world.
Watching Dr. Who last night with the kids – all of us in tears – as The Doctor prepares to “die” before regenerating. He is so sad, so in love with life. His final words are simple and profound, “I don’t want to leave.”
Just now, Tobey is getting ready to ride his bike to school. He came home yesterday and declared it “the best first day of school ever.” He went to bed eager to get up and go the next day.
So it’s the next day and he’s going to ride his bike. The doorbell rings. It’s a little boy who Tobey knows through family friends; “Can Tobey walk to school?” I look back at Tobey, thinking he’ll explain that he’s riding his bike. He doesn’t hesitate – picks up his backpack, gives me a kiss, walks out the door, says, “Hey, man,” in the best bro-friend way, and starts walking with the kid. As they get down the block, I can see Tobey briefly put his arm around the boy’s shoulder. And that’s when I walk into the kitchen, sit down by the pot of eggs I’m boiling, and cry.
So short. So beautiful. I don’t want to go.