Mom and dad are rushing around
getting ready. They finally get to go on that date they have been
talking about for weeks. Jack, their 15-month-old son, is content to
play with his toys on the floor. He doesn’t notice that mom answered
the door and the babysitter arrived. Mom and dad thought it best to
sneak out so Jack wouldn’t notice they had gone (Jack puts up quite a
fight when his mom and dad go places without him). While he is
playing, he sees his favorite toy across the room, and he crawls over
to pick it up. For some reason, Jack really wants to show his mom the
toy. Maybe he wants her to play with him, maybe to pick him up and
hold him; he just wants to see her. But when Jack turns around, he
realizes. Mom and Dad are gone,
and some teenage girl is here. And Jack proceeds to freak
out.
Pause.
I have
been that teenage girl more times than I can count, but, I have
moments when I feel more like Jack. I have moments when I feel like a
baby who turned around and realized that his parents weren’t there.
Sometimes, that awareness of never being able to interact with my mom and dad
again is enough to knock the wind out of me.
I was
running this morning, and I just started thinking about all the
things they have missed in my life, and how much things have changed
since they have been gone. I wondered about what they would think
about the direction my life has taken. I thought about how my mom
would have loved to hear about my experiences on the Race, from the
most broad of topics, to the most minute details, and everything in
between. I thought about how much I wish that I could share my dreams
for the future with them, and recall memories from the past.
Sometimes, I still can’t wrap my mind around the idea that I have so
many more roads to walk down without their guidance and love along
the way.
Back
to the story…
That teenage girl gets him calmed
down, and he plays for a while, but its only a matter of time before
it seems like Jack has a whole new revelation that his mom and dad
are missing. As Jack gets older, and that teenage girl keeps coming
back, he realizes: things are
not so terrible when mom and dad leave, and, they are always
home when I wake up in the morning. So the story ends. Mom
and dad get to have a social life, the teenage girl gets gas money,
and little Jack learns to get along without his mom and dad for a
little while.
This is where my
analogy breaks down. Jack eventually gets over it, and learns that
his mom and dad always come back. I wonder if I will ever hit a point
where time overcomes the pain of loss. Time, distraction, or anything
else. If that day ever gets here, I don’t know how I would react. I
don’t want to sit in my sorrow, feel sorry for myself, or not live
life to the fullest, but I don’t know that I would ever want to be
completely free from sadness either.
I do know one thing: I am thankful for all the “teenage girls” in my life. The people who take the time out of their lives to walk through all of this with me have been an invaluable part of my life. They bring me healing, and they help me recognize where I can find joy in the world around me. Thank you.
