But I Did

I could hear the gravel crunching beneath my feet and the far off whistle of a train charging down the tracks. I could hear the chorus of a million crickets in the grass as a gentle breeze blew. I could hear the mourning dove and the bark of a lonely dog. These were the sounds that filled my ears on a walk I didn't want to take; but I did. 

I didn't want to go to the hall for this reason today today; didn't want to don my fire department uniform or turn my phone off. None of us wanted to; but we did.

I didn't want to make idle chit chat with folks I see only once or twice a year. I didn't want to awkwardly drink sweet juice or eat a brown sugar topped square. I didn't want to sit in a line in a quiet corner and not know what to say. But I did. 

I didn't want to see the puffy eyes of a young lady I have known since before she was in kindergarten. I didn't want to see the stoic face of a brother-less boy from my daughter's class. I didn't want to struggle to know what to say to a mother who has lost her first born or see the oceans of ache in a father's eyes; but I did. 

I didn't want to see my community try to keep it together in the face of something that we never believed would actually happen, but it did. 

I didn't think it would hurt that much when it was so crucial; to see it, to feel it, to be surrounded by it. But it did.

I didn't want my daughter to wonder how a boy she knew could be gone. I didn't want to feel so selfish when I held her tight as she let hot tears roll down her cheeks. But I did. 

Your life was so short but now is the time to rest and be at peace. David, you touched me more than you could know, because I didn't think I could learn how to be faithful, brave and real from a child. But I did.