Thursday, February 17, 2011

Tobin- rererepost

I am stealing from my Mom's blog today.  She quotes my brother.  I think I posted this last year as well- but well, it's his death anniversary and it's my blog (sticking tongue out)

Thirteen years ago, on February 17, 1998, our grandson lost his battle with Neuroblastoma – a form of cancer. Toby was born on March 8, 1995, so he did not make it to his 3rd birthday. He was a very special child, with eyes that looked into your soul. My son, Toby’s uncle and namesake, wrote the story below just after Toby’s death.

When you looked at him, you couldn’t help noticing that he had sky-eyes; two big blue sheets of glass like dolphins swimming, because he was Toby-wan-kanobi. And as he swam, you saw grace and strength and joy and peace and mischief and some forever God thing deep inside there and all these things intermingled as he swam deep deep, or played in the surf, or occasionally confronted sharks.
I have been spending a lot of time on the beach lately. On Wednesday eve I paddled out at just about sunset. And just as I got washed in a wall of white, a family of dolphins surfaced outside where my friend sat on his board, where I had been just a minute earlier. They swam around for a couple of minutes and then disappeared into the deep deep before I got a chance to see them – but that’s how dolphins are.
On Friday I stood on the pier and watched a couple of them splash all glistening and satin. They would actually wait for the waves. When the sun is low in the sky and the glowing swell rises up liquid jade and arches, you could make out a silhouette of one or two, side by side, riding the wave for pure joy – then they too disappear.
But the thing that intrigues me most about dolphins, and of this I am convinced, they know more than they let on. They’ve got some connection with eternity – they talk to God – the’ve peeked into the secrets of the universe – they have a deep deep peace that reflects their old souls that are not confined to the dimensions of time. And yet, even in this enlightened state of Godlikeness, humble and quiet, when they finally open their mouths, the song they sing can only mean one thing – “Playroom!” and so when I grow up I want to be like Toby . . . with eyes like dolphins swimming. I want to live hard and laugh lots. I want to swim in the deep deep. I want to confront the sharks with courage and grace. I want to know God, and through it all, I want to go to the playroom every day.
I only got to swim with Toby for a brief time before he turned his tail, glistening, and disappeared into the deep deep. But that’s how dolphins are . . . . (GEO Feb. 1998)
When Toby was in the hospital he loved it when his brother and sister could come to see him and the three of them could go into the playroom. He was amazingly courageous throughout his battle. We miss him."

I do too


Anonymous said...

What a loving tribute to such a beautiful boy.

Debra She Who Seeks said...

Your brother's tribute is stunningly poetic and beautiful and obviously so full of love. Hugs to you and your family today.

Mara said...

I've got tears in my eyes now! Strength to you and your family.

LisaF said...

I was away from the Internet last week but knew this day was coming up and I thought about you and your mom. My heart aches for your loss. Your mom's tribute is so lovely. There really aren't words sufficient to comfort during times like this. I firmly believe God has a special place in heaven for the innocent lives the evil of this world has taken. My sincerest, heartfelt prayers are with you now.