Cavalier

When I was a child, my family returned home from a family gathering. As we drove up the street leading to our house, my father noticed a rabbit in the road near the curb. It obviously had been hit by a car but unfortunately had survived and was suffering in the gutter unable to move. When we reached home, my father gave my brother, only ten at the time, a shovel and instructed him to go down the street and put the animal out of its suffering.

My brother was not pleased with the assignment and protested to my father but eventually headed down the street to carry out his assignment. I followed him dutifully to bear witness to the mercy granted this animal by my brother.

After the task was completed, we both headed home. I attempted to talk to my brother, but he was in no mood to discuss the assignment or my father’s insistence that he complete the task. It is one of the rare cases I recall my brother shedding tears growing up and it left an indelible impression upon me.

Recently, I had the unpleasant experience of watching an animal perish before my eyes. I was driving on the freeway and had just merged into traffic. As I set my cruise control, I glanced into my rearview mirror. To my horror, I saw a deer jump out onto the road directly in front of the car behind me. In the blink of an eye, I witnessed the deer cut in two and a mist of blood splayed into the air as its body was thrown in two different directions. The car was able to safely pull over to the side of the road, and I am sure the driver was in a state of shock.

It pains me to bear witness to such events. I am particularly upset when I see baby fawns on the side of the road. Amy and I often told the kids when they were little that the animals were just sleeping to shield our young children from the realities of roadkill.

As l grow older, the ache of observing these mishaps and their aftermath has grown harder to stomach. Disney did a very good job of framing the circle of life in the animated movie The Lion King, but after it suddenly touched my life so tragically, I find it hard to stomach. My grief is often triggered when friends and acquaintances share news of their loss with me.

Social media often insulates us from the fragility of life and makes us treat loss with such a cavalier attitude. When we are young, it is easy to push off thoughts of mortality to when we are older. It is only after we lose someone close that the realities of our own mortality potentially sink in, at least for me.

Society has become cavalier to the death that surrounds us. From roadkill, to homicides, to reports of military action on the evening news, we barely take notice of the loss of someone’s loved one. I am particularly upset by the cavalier attitude toward the intentional taking of a life in whatever vernacular you choose to call it, murder, war, or skirmish.

I am glad I saw my brother shed those tears years ago. It ingrained in me a sense of obligation to all living beings. Compassion and empathy are humanity’s most redeeming attributes. If only we could share the same compassion and respect for our fellow humans, the world would be a much better place.

Author’s Note:  I will be taking a short sabbatical for a cycling, hiking, and kayaking adventure across Greece’s Peloponnese peninsula. I hope to publish again sometime in October.