From the backseat of the truck today I heard Jordan say to his sister out of nowhere, “Madelynn, I miss my daddy.” (Let me back up. Of course this sentiment really isn’t out of nowhere. Missing who Shawn was in our lives is a daily thought.)
His little sister asked with her two year old inquisitiveness and a lift in her voice, “Why?”
Jordan’s reply was quick, “He died.”
As the driver, I was set apart from their conversation; still eavesdropping with complete intrigue.
Madelynn responded with equal interest as if seeking explanation, “Why?”
The big newly turned four-year-old brother continued, “Should I tell you a story about him?”
In the rear view mirror I could see she smiled.
His story went like this, “Once upon a time there was my dad. One day he was hunting. He shot animals. He shot a tiger and elephant. Then he ran onto a lake and fell on the ice and was all gone. He died. And that is the end of my story.”
