It is Christmas Eve, and I find myself browsing through all of the news stories in respect of the discovery of the deceased body of my second son, EfeOghene Obrimah on the ground on August 13, 2022, beside the press box of the stadium in the High School (Atlee High) from which he just had graduated at the age of 18. Having being an athlete for Atlee High who won two state athletic championships, it was habit for Efe to make use of the stadium’s facilities for exercise.
If it hadn’t snowed out in Nashville, Tennessee on Thursday night, with outcome I would engage with my usual Saturday morning exercise regimen in one of the finest parks that I have traversed in all of the United States, perhaps I do not find myself in the frame of mind for wanting to find out whether the world quickly had archived away what happened to my son, as such had rendered all of the news articles in respect of his decease undiscoverable.
It is a beautiful mystery when your discovery that news articles in respect of the decease of your child remain accessible brings comfort — comfort that the world has not so soon relegated the news to not any more be relevant.
But then that brings me to the question that has been on my mind in respect of the demise of my son. The police say either ‘he fell’ or ‘jumped intentionally’ from the press box, surely a high enough height. I am cool with either, because neither paints my son as a ‘bad person’, merely as a person who passed away. But then, good or bad, we all pass away someday, only that, passing away, hopefully at a grand old age, we’d rather our children grieve over us, rather than the other way around. Thankfully, the news in respect of Efe’s life is comforting, reveals a child who loved those around him, who did not thrive on showing others up, rather a person who loved to encourage others to do better, to be better.
But then, I digress. The question that has been tugging at my mind?
Why was Efe not better than either of the mistake, or the intentional jump? Why, in that very moment…