October 2nd

I met a man about a week ago and wanted to write about him on this blog, but life took over (as it does) and writing about it had slipped my mind until now. An organization I am with recently hosted a fundraiser for a student who had died of hazing two years ago, at the same institution I currently attend. It was a basketball tournament, and a man I didn't recognize came up and began talking to me. He was very polite and gentle, and thanked me for volunteering. Confused as to who he was, I asked if he was the referee for our next game. Slightly taken aback, he lightly shook his head and told me he was not. Puzzled, I continued conversing with him, eventually asking if he had anyone he knew playing in the tournament. After a moment, I think it dawned on him that I had no idea who he was. Again, he shook his head softly and told me he was the father of the boy who had passed here. He sensed I was (quite obviously) very embarrassed and gave me one of the warmest hugs a stranger could give. We talked for a bit longer, and he told me his daughter and I had the same name. As we continued conversing, he kept telling me how much his son would have loved this. That he loved basketball, and people, and playing sports with his friends. It hit me then how real all of it was. Though I run the risk of sounding dramatic, it was a very intense moment. I had never talked to someone who had lost a child, especially in the same type of organization I was in. When he spoke about his son, I realized there was nothing I could say. There was nothing anyone could say, for that matter.  Do you uncomfortably nod your head? Do you say how horrible it all was? Do you say sorry? The conversation eventually slowed, and he went off to meet other volunteers. Before he left he found me to give me another hug, and it was something I will never forget. I laid awake that night, wondering if despite my embarrassment, it felt good to him. To be in a place where you were conversing with another person as your human self, and not as 'the dad of the boy who had passed'. I hoped, if anything, it was a second of relief. To not walk up to someone and immediately sense the inevitable discomfort surrounding death. It's been almost two weeks, and I am still thinking about it. He is, thus far, one of the most impactful strangers I have ever met.