POCKET KNIFE
My five year old son, Zoli, followed as we made our way through the underbrush. A vine maple branch crossed our path. I took out my pocket knife and whittled a notch before snapping it off and tossing it aside. Zoli watched as I continued to cleared our way through the woods. After a bit, I paused. Turning back I saw Zoli looking at me intently. Having my attention, he asked “Dad are you going to die?”
Wow! I thought. My son is so very thoughtful. He is such a sensitive boy, and intelligent, to be thinking of life in the future. His life without his dad. He is so appreciative of me that he is concerned that I may no longer be there to clear the way for him. I put my hand on his small shoulder and said “Yes, someday I will die.” There was a pause. As I imagined him thinking about life without his hero dad.
Then he asked another question. “Dad” he said “When you die can I have your pocket knife?”
END
copyright 7/28/2025 by Theodore “Tod” Lundy, Architect