Hickey Theology

     All the losses of childhood friends from Dewberry Lane have been painful, but not as painful of the loss of my gentle giant, Thomas Edward Cayton, Jr.

    Edward was the oldest of the three Cayton boys . He was born September 11, 1950.  So, on Wednesday Edward would have been 75. The other two brothers were Mike and Brock.  Edward was a genius! Edward’s mind was so full of information. Edwards’s eyes would light up when he was sharing anything with you, because this was how he made a connection. 

    Edward was different, social awkward and most telling Edward was truly an introvert. He was tall, his movement not well coordinated. Edward’s motor skills did not seem to connect well with his legs and arms. However, if you put Edward behind a telescope, he became this brilliant and articulate person able to connect through his engaging conversation. 

     But, the amazing thing about Edward was that he was a gentle giant. Edward’s size was imposing, tall but once he opens his mouth you realized that he was a very special person, an old soul. He was special not because of his intelligence, or the brilliance that would be shone through his words, but it was the kindness, acceptance, compassion and love that overflowed from him.

   Edward was always talking about the connection we not only had with nature but with each other and the universe. Edward seemed to find hope in the starry night. Edward would often wish he could be among the stars. When he looked to the starry sky he would have this look of peace on his face.

We tried to get him involved in the games we played. He would play baseball with us, but he always felt clumsy and out of place. Edward just wasn’t interested so he chose to spend a lot of time alone.

I spent a lot of time with Edward looking through his telescope talking about stars, the planets, and the cosmos. When he talked of these things there was in his voice an excitement and, wonder but yet there was a feeling that he felt a loss, a sense that he somehow did not belong. 

     We tried our best to protect him from kids that would say things about him, but he still heard many terrible words and heard their laughter about his clumsiness and being so different. But Edward never uttered a single bad word about others even though the wounds he felt to his soul shattered him. Edward would say, “I am lover not a fighter”. But I know words hurdled at him cut deep. I saw it in his face, the sadness in his eyes and how he withdrew from the world a little more each day.

    I lost contact with Edward and Cayton family when they moved very far from Dewberry Lane. I only saw Edward very few more times after I got my license and drove through the Washburn Tunnel to their new house several miles north. School, girlfriends and work drew me away from Edward and the Cayton family.

    It was February 14, 1975 (Edward was 24), on Valentine’s Day, all the voices through years that worked to help Edward find self-worth and purpose were silenced. The Gentle Giant could no longer take the pain of living in this world. Edward’s emotional struggle came to an end. The sweet, innocent, loving Gentle Giant was gone from this world. I cried the day I learn of Edward’s passing.

    Don McLean wrote a song entitled Starry, Starry Night (Vincent). There is a line in the song every time I hear it I think of Edward:

For they could not love you

But still your love was true

And when no hope was left in sight

In that starry, starry night

You took your life, as lovers often do

But I could have told you ‘EDWARD‘

This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you

   Now when I look up into the starry night, I realize Edward is where he always wanted to be. I thank God for that brief moment I was given the gift of my gentle giant!

Until Next Time

Grace and Peace