Yesterday while driving around town for work I saw a dead deer on the side of the road. Unfortunately I’ve grown rather callus to seeing “roadkill” and normally I’m not too affected by seeing it. The events of last weekend made me see this particular deer’s death in a different light. The deer was young, not quite a fawn but he still had a few spots left and he wasn’t quite yet an adult. It also wasn’t out in the boondocks. This deer was about a 100 yards up one of the overpasses on the one of the busiest interchange in the world. Not quite an adult yet this deer had somehow got himself deep into a world that he was very unfamiliar with and didn’t know how to react. I began to think about how terrified this little guy must have been in those last few minutes of his life.
As a parent I try to make sure my children are prepared to handle the real world. I realize that they aren’t always going to be able to stay under my protective care, and I wouldn't want to restrict them by doing so. However, exposing them to the real world does not come without its bumps and bruises, some literal and some figurative. It’s hard not to feel like you’ve failed in some small way when your kids bring home a bruise that you could have prevented. When it comes to preventing my kids from reliving some of the same bad events of my adolescence I had a pretty crummy weekend.
I’m cursed with having a brain that thinks in metaphors. Sometimes it helps me to explain myself, but other times it haunts me. The image of this deer and the metaphor behind it are just too real for me and I’m having a hard time putting them aside.
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