Go Ask Dad: Sock talk
This mentor was a chaplain for the hospital’s pediatric oncology unit. On the first day of orientation for the new pastoral students, he warned us, “Don’t you dare refer to our patients as ‘cancer kids.’” But later, mirth shone from his eyes as he showed us his socks.
Over the course of my study, I’d learn that he had many brightly colored socks, like lime green and hot pink. Sometimes, he would mix-and-match them in wondrous combinations. Other socks had funky geometric designs. Still others had pictures of wacky cartoon animals: toucans, sloths, zebras and snails. He wore socks depicting the planets of our solar system, the skyline of Paris and slices of pepperoni pizza. As far as socks, he had only one rule: no clowns. “Some kids are afraid of them,” he said, before adding with a wink, “some adults, too.”
But the point of his silly socks was quite serious. “It gives you something to talk about when there’s really nothing that can be said.”
This chaplain has died (peace be upon him), but he felt very present just the other day in my office. A grieving father sat across from me. Through his tears, he pointed to my taco socks. I wiped my own eyes and said softly, “It’s Tuesday, after all.”
He cracked a smile, and then a giggle spilled from his lips. We both laughed, then we cried some more. I certainly don’t have answers about tragedies, like why some kids are so sick, yet I always remember the last day of my education at the hospital. My mentor wore socks adorned with those funny-looking, four-cornered graduation caps. He said this, which I pass on to you as profound life lessons:
“Do random acts of kindness for someone you don’t even know. And if you really love someone, tell them so while you can in this life.”
Andrew Taylor-Troutman is the author of Little Big Moments, a collection of mini-essays about parenting, and Tigers, Mice & Strawberries: Poems. Both titles are available most anywhere books are sold online. Taylor-Troutman lives in Chapel Hill where he serves as pastor of Chapel in the Pines Presbyterian Church and occasionally stumbles upon the wondrous while in search of his next cup of coffee.
