I would take a bullet for Graham.
I wouldn't think twice. If I believed Graham was facing any kind of mortal danger I would fight to the death to protect him from harm.
I would die before I let anyone hurt Graham.
Pretty dramatic sentiments, to be sure. But if you have kids you are undoubtedly shrugging and saying, "Of course. Me too. What parent wouldn't?"
We are hardwired to protect our children. It is, without a doubt, instinctual. What is in doubt, however, and what has been weighing on my mind so heavily these last few days I can scarcely think of anything else, is how far the average person would go to protect a fellow human with whom they don't share DNA?
Most of you have likely heard of the unspeakably horrific murder that occurred on a Greyhound bus in Manitoba, Canada last week. If you are Canadian like me, you are probably similarly devastated and wearied and beaten by the constant gruesome updates that have flooded our media.
It was a completely unprovoked attack. Twenty-three-year-old Tim McLean was stabbed repeatedly, beheaded and further mutilated by a fellow passenger who was previously unknown to him. Thirty-seven other passengers hastily removed themselves from harm's way: not one of them attempted to intervene in the attack.
Should they have? Could they have prevented his death? The debate is raging in this country. Some say Mr. McLean was likely already dead before anyone realized what was happening and therefore it was prudent for fellow passengers to flee. Others say they should have intervened, if only to prevent further indignity to his body.
If Graham was being attacked neither stark terror nor fear of imminent death would keep me from intervening.
But if a total stranger - perhaps someone you love - was being attacked?
It is this scenario that has me soul searching. I have spent hours tossing and turning this past week, haunted by my boy's darling face, seeking clarity about the true meaning of humanity, and finding that answers elude me just as surely as do sleep and peace of mind.
