A Light in the Darkness

I think the only thing harder being a soldier is being a husband

or a father.

Either way, you invest in the lives of those you love. It doesn't matter if its a friend in a hole in a hole in the wall on a mountain top in a valley twelve thousand miles away or the boy with your name. They are a part of you forever and regardless ,you are better for them. Their triumph and sorrow are shared.

The boy with my name has had a very rough year. He has suffered through things that I cannot imagine and certainly he has been exposed to the things I only began to know and understand when I was much older. A lot has happened this year and in these years since my wife came home and as we make our way through this dark night I have begun to see the light.

My little boy you see

made a friend.

Day after day, he came from his new school, did his homework, went to hockey practice and quietly said; "I have no friends". A whisper at the end of a long day.

As a father, none of this has had as profound an effect on me as the pain of my children. My wife and I are adults and soldiers and these things we have been through are to be expected. It is different for the kids. They never signed the contract, fate just sent them our way.

Just a few weeks ago, I picked up my son from school. I asked the usual questions: How was school? Do you have homework? How was your day? His face lit up and he smiled at me - all teeth and shine. "I met this kid - Logan. We ate lunch together. He'd like to hang out sometime. He plays football on Scottie's team and gets box seats to the Rockies Games!" Months of heartache and four years of sorrow washed away by an eighth grade boy who had the grace to say hello to my heartsick son. My son's grades shot up, the principle e-mailed about how well he was doing and from somewhere came the light that has been gone for so long.

My son wanted to hang out with Logan last weekend but he was still on restriction and had an early hockey game. He knew not to ask. Next weekend I promised and despite the bad news he smiled at me. "Cool - thanks dad!" We had a good weekend and a winning game. Monday morning, he texted me at work:

Logan's dead

Logan Bauman was hit by a car, while crossing the road by his home, Saturday evening December 6, 2008 in Parker Colorado. He was transported to Parker Adventist Hospital and airlifted to Denver Children's Hospital. He died that night surrounded by those who loved him.

We, along with what must have been a thousand others, went to the funeral Thursday. I watched as my son wandered among the crowd, an outlier among the masses - lost and small. His friend gone.

That night I cried silently as my son fall asleep in my arms. One lost boy saved by a new friend I will never have the pleasure of knowing.

I will never meet Logan's parents and I'm sorry for that. They must be wonderful people to have raised this extraordinary young man who recognized that my son needed a friend. For the time Logan gave to me, for the light he turned back on in my son, I am eternally grateful. I can never thank him or his family for giving me back, in a few short weeks, what I could not seem to get on my own.


My son



TIA

Earl