The Playground: Missing

I woke up this morning and headed straight for the playground, in eager anticipation of all that awaited me there.  But I arrived to find something missing.  Someone missing.

Swing, ©Michael Newman

Swing, ©Michael Newman

One by one, we friends began to arrive, and we stood around wondering how we should laugh and run and play without our friend beside us.  It hit us hard – we are without him.  The world is without him.

He was the kind of friend who would share his shovel with a new kid who hadn’t brought one. Or step aside and let you climb the ladder first.  Or help you up when you tripped and skinned you knee, while making a joke so you would laugh and forget how much it stung.  Who doesn’t love a guy like that?

He loved the playground.  Even when he knew it was getting late, he fought hard to stay.  And in the end when it was time for him to go, he left his footprints in the sandbox, to remind us always of the important things:  People.  Sharing.  Kindness.  Friendship. Music.  Laughter.

It’s difficult to imagine now, but we will swing again, and our friends will be beside us.  We will remember his humor, his strength.  We will hear a song and remember his voice singing, and we will smile.  We will miss him, yet his memory will inspire us even more to be true to who we are, and to find delight in every corner of the playground.

~ Christiana

In fond memory of Kevin Durciansky

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