Strong, stoic and brave

The house is quiet today.

The television is off.

Dad’s laptop is dark.

Batman is napping.

He’s holding up.  He’s being strong and brave and taking care of all that needs to be taken care of.  He’s attending to details.  He’s taking care of mom.

And every now and then he looks at me and I can see in his eyes the hurt, the loss.  I can see how lost he is.  I can hear him silently pleading with me, “Help.  I miss him so much.”

Batman has lost his best friend.

He keeps his tears to himself.  He watches me to make sure I don’t fall apart.   I want to ease his fear and tell him, “It’s ok to fall apart.  You can, I won’t.  Cry.  Yell.  Grieve.  And I’ll be here to hold you through the storm.”

The storm will come.  When everything else is done.  When the arrangements are made, the goodbyes said, the life celebrated and the loss mourned.  When it’s all said and done and the rest of us get back our lives, the storm will come.  It will be then that Batman (and his mother) realize the emptiness of the house without Dad.

Until then he’s strong, and stoic and brave.