The year was 1957 in Overland Park, Kansas.
A very young cowboy was seven years old…one of a family of six children.
Our parents had just returned from The Mayo Clinic in Minnesota where our brother Craig was taken to be treated for a congenital heart condition.
Craig was four and…as everyone in the family would agree, had a heart of gold.
We gathered in the living room as our parents broke the news that Craig did not make it through the complicated surgery.
The kids were in shock and from that point forward our mother would never be the same. It was as if someone entered the room and covered us with a large black tarpaulin.
Nothing could prepare the children for the sledgehammer of that news.
There were no grief counselors at the ready to help anyone deal with this pierce the heart, strip the soul bare devastation.
I guess you could say we stuffed it…put a lid on the sorrow and pain because, in those days, that’s what many families did.
Sixty years later, I heard a song that reminded me of that moment…that sadness and grief.
It made me cry.
It made me wish we didn’t have to stuff it back then…made me wish that this artist could have walked into that living room with her violin and played this song.
Surely, there would have been a torrent of tears from everyone.
Heart wrenching…but cleansing tears as well.
Rest in peace, Craig.
You’ll always be loved and remembered as the strong warrior with a heart of gold.
We’ll see you once more following our final sunset.
What You’re Saying