And Just Like That

Every year Jennifer’s employer hosts a day at a local amusement park. Employees and family members have the opportunity to enjoy the park for much of the day. This culminates in a picnic where yearly awards are handed out and sometimes a pep talk is given.

This is a good occasion for me to be around many of the people Jennifer is around during her work days. After all our years together, I feel I know many of them well as Jennifer mentions them from time to time in our conversations. Getting together with them helps me place names with faces until we see each other at the annual Christmas party or at the picnic the following year.

This picnic and day at the amusement park takes place in the middle of summer. Every time I have been it has been hot, often scorching hot. That is okay though. Summer and amusement parks go hand in hand. You should expect to get sweaty and sticky, and maybe a tad smelly during this type of excursion. It is the type of day where you understand why people, beat down by the heat and the excitement, pay five dollars for an oversized mug of a root beer and grape Kool-Aid slush without a second thought.

I recall only missing one picnic during my marriage to Jennifer. That one miss was when Hannah was born. She was born on a Thursday night and the picnic was the next day. After Hannah was born, we have made each one with Hannah in tow each time.

Hannah’s participation and interaction with the amusement park has grown each year as she has grown older. She plays some now in the water park and has gotten her courage up to ride some of the rides. Still, we find that at her age, her enthusiasm sometimes overrides her processing capability.

This year we had one of those moments. It was one of those moments all parents fear.

We met at a pavilion for the picnic meal and awards ceremony. After we had spent some time with Hannah in the other parts of the park on this afternoon, the shade of the pavilion combined with a place to sit down for a time to eat, made this an enjoyable time for us adults. This was a bit of a different story for Hannah though on this day. She could comprehend a whole world of fun stood within her vision. Combining the possibilities of fun before her with her new found bravery to test boundaries and find limits and now she was chomping at the bit to get the picnic behind her so she could get back to discovering what else the park had in store for her.

As the picnic ended, we stood up to get back to the park to spend some more time letting Hannah ride rides. Jennifer made her way down the pavilion into an open area. Hannah followed behind her. I though got stuck in a bit of congestion as others made their way from under the pavilion. By the time I was able to get moving again, Jennifer and Hannah were gone from our dining location. I made my way through the crowd moving into the open area where I found Jennifer. She had been stopped by someone who was talking with her. I looked around for Hannah. I did not find her though. I asked Jennifer if she knew where Hannah was, she looked at me then looked around. A look of horror came across her face.

And just like that, life changed. Hannah was missing.

I told Jennifer to stay where she was just in case Hannah was nearby. I then began walking with the dispersing crowd toward the heart of the amusement park. My mind raced. I kept trying to remember what Hannah was wearing. I tried to remember if she were wearing her glasses or was carrying her toy puppy dog. At the same time my eyes were scanning the people around me. I wondered should I yell out Hannah’s name. If I did would a panic be created when others realized a little girl was missing?

Then about fifty feet ahead of me I saw a woman. My initial glance just told me she was a mom. I saw her stoop over to either talk or hear something. There to her side was Hannah. Hannah’s enthusiasm had somehow morphed into reality when she noticed me or her mother were no longer beside her, and something told her that was not the way it should be. This woman, standing beside five or six children, probably some of them her own children, was trying to find out why this little girl was suddenly all alone.

I raced ahead and thanked this woman who was able to slow Hannah down just enough for me to spot Hannah and catch up to her. I scooped Hannah up and hugged her and kissed her. I also chided her a bit about running off without knowing mom and I were with her. Briefly, I thought about what may have happened if I had been just one or two seconds slower.

And just like that, life changed back.

In reality, Hannah was only missing for a half-minute or so. Still, every second where we did not know her location was excruciatingly awful. An ache formed and found residence deep in the pit of my stomach that seemed to know no mercy. Thinking how that separation could have been longer makes me shudder even now and makes me sad to know parents who have lost children and somehow have to just go on.

There’s a lot of time ahead for more moments like what happened on that hot summer day. That possibility is just something that comes with being a parent. So, we teach our children to be aware of where they are, where we are, who they are with and where they need to be and where they shouldn’t be. We make notes of what they are wearing. Sometimes we even take their picture, just in case. We teach them to be wary of people they don’t know. We teach them to hold our hands. And we pray that something like this never ever, ever happens.

We do those things so that another day will come. A day where the child has grown up, has becomes a responsible young adult and goes out on her own. And as I watch time go by, I know that day will come and be here…just like that…

Firsts and Lasts

As parents we mark milestones along the way for our children, first tooth, first step, first word. Jennifer and I have been no different than others in this regard. Time passes though so that the routine becomes habit settling us into not always recognizing what passes as milestones.

A few days ago, we received a reminder in email the annual family picnic will take place for daycare in a matter of days. This is an event we have attended every year. We gather together with the other parents, and sometimes, grandparents, of the children who attend daycare with Hannah in an open area for a picnic during lunchtime. The first year, Hannah, not able to walk yet, rode there in a big over sized buggy with some of her classmates. The other years, she has either held our hand or walked alongside her friends to this event. We have lunched together then watched Hannah interact with her teachers and friends.

These have been good memories. Still, it struck us this particular picnic would be our last family picnic for Hannah in daycare. Next year, kindergarten awaits.

This has made another thing come into focus for us as parents that even at Hannah’s young age it becomes time to experience, the lasts. Cliché to say, but time flies, doesn’t it? Just a few years ago, on a cold January morning, we dropped Hannah off at daycare for the first day. Now as I drop her off every day I sometimes think how next year at this time, this routine that has become a habit will be different. We are going through a whole new series of events but these aren’t the firsts, these are the lasts.

Life is change, constantly moving. Memory is captured, immobile, stationary. One seems a bit more up in the air and the other seems a bit more certain. Maybe the certainty of a memory makes us a bit more hesitant to let go and accept the change that is inevitable.

So, ready or not we knowingly begin this tour of lasts. Last picture day at daycare, last Trick or Treat at daycare, last Christmas party at daycare, last Valentines party at daycare, last water day at daycare, last day of daycare. On that last day of daycare, I will pick her up from there for the final time and usher her, her mom and into a world of new firsts. I’m sure it won’t be the last time.

A Four-Year-Old Questions Beauty

Not long ago on that modern neighborhood party line known as Facebook I noticed something that stated four-year-old children ask over 400 questions in a single day. Being a parent of a four-year-old I was not shocked. Now, as with about 98% of what is shared on Facebook, I am not sure of the exact truthfulness of that precise statement but I know firsthand how a four-year-old can ask a lot of questions because everyday Hannah asks lots and lots of questions. While she is four for a few more months, from time to time, I plan to share some of these questions with you. Some of them are genuine and sincere. Some of them are a bit wacky and off the wall. Some of them just make me pause and marvel at the inquisitive nature of a four-year-old.

As an active four-year-old, Hannah loves princesses and everything related to them. Often, we find she is flitting around the room holding imaginary conversations with others. Picking out bits and pieces of these conversation we find she is sometimes fighting dragons, sometimes chasing bad guys and sometimes searching for lost medallions and the such. Still, at an early age, the idea of a princess is something that is part of how she identifies herself in some way.

Recently, Hannah was busy in her make-believe world. She was adorned in a deep blue princess nightgown trimmed with purple and gold. I don’t recall her having on any shoes which these days is not unusual. Either she really doesn’t like shoes or she is really buying into this princess thing and is waiting for some prince to swoop in with a pair of shoes that fit her feet perfectly. Either way, on this day, she danced around the room light as air on her feet. She spun and twirled around the room saying things in a quiet voice that I could not quite understand, things not necessarily intended for me to hear. She pranced closer to me though, twirled around and stopped at a point where she turned her head in a certain position. She then looked me in the eyes and asked, “Am I beautiful?”

Wow! What a question for a four year old. I realize now, as I did then, she was likely mimicking something she had heard in a movie or on television. Still, I recognized it as a question most every girl will ask at some point in her life: “Am I beautiful?”

How did I respond? Of course, I told Hannah she was the most beautiful girl in the whole wide world. That is probably not the answer some in today’s hyper-sensitive, hyper-critical world would want a father to give to his four-year-old daughter. But the truth is, in my biased eyes, she is beautiful and always will be beautiful.

That said, the remainder of this piece is directed to Hannah. Hannah, I hope as you grow older you read what is ahead and come to understand some truths about true beauty.

Being physically beautiful is important to the world in which you live. It always has been and it probably will be the entirety of your life. There is nothing wrong with physical beauty but please understand it is something that is very subjective. Physical beauty changes, too. Age, time and unbridled vanity will bring changes whether we want them to or not. Beauty can even become something that people chase after to the neglect and ruin of more important things. Please understand those you see on television and in the movies, those models on magazine covers and others who live and die for the label of being called beautiful chase after something that will never fully satisfy. The standard of beauty they measure things against will change or those who they feel need to be impressed will move on to someone or something else. Don’t live your live in that kind of world.

On the other hand, don’t ever let anyone tell you are not beautiful. Don’t let someone who claims to be your friend or who claims they are something more than your friend tell you that you are not beautiful. Don’t allow anyone to define you when the words they speak emanate from a heart peppered with envy or spite.

Ultimately, that is where it all starts, the heart. True beauty lies within you. True beauty begins inside and manifests itself in surprising ways.

You are beautiful when you look at your mother with wonder and amazement hoping you become more like her. You are beautiful when you are helpful to others even when no one but you knows of the kindness you express. You are beautiful when you use your words to comfort or to encourage those who need compassion or a boost in their day. You are beautiful when you forgive someone even after they have wronged and hurt you. You are beautiful when you help someone who cannot give you back anything in return but their gratitude.

Are you beautiful? When you ponder this in the time ahead don’t look at the mirror, look at your heart, that’s where your answer will be.