Can I Just Lay Here Forever?
I want my kids to grow and fly and be who they were called to be. Just let me always remember this feeling.
As a Children’s Book author, our home is filled with children’s books. I’ve been a dad for almost eight years, and over this period, I’ve accumulated hundreds of books from Dr. Suess to independent authors like myself.
My oldest daughter, Rae, who is in second grade, is reading so well, and it’s a joy to witness. In fact, the other day, she was told she’s reading at a fifth-grade level! She was so proud of herself. The joy on her face as she broke the news to me warmed my heart.
My wife and I love to read our girls' bedtime stories. Winding down with a good book puts a beautiful bow on the day, no matter what that day looked like. I genuinely look forward to laying in their beds and reading whatever book they give me, though lately, Rae has been reading to us.
It’s wonderful. I lay in her room and listen to her read full paragraphs while simultaneously recalling the moment she said her first word, “Dada.” Oh, time, you wonderful and cruel creation.
I’m not one of those dads who wishes my kids could stay little forever. I want them to grow and experience life the way I’ve been able to.
Of course, every time I see a picture of them from a vacation we took three years ago or at their early birthday parties, I look at them and think, “I can’t believe we are years past that moment.” Still, I see it as another reason to be intentionally present for the nights we read our stories.
Well, tonight, as I was putting down my youngest daughter, Si, I was feeling a bit sentimental. She picked the book of the evening, Olivia, a Caldecott Honor book from 2000. I had never heard of this book before she put it in my lap. We read the story of a cute little pig who dances and paints on walls, and I took my time taking in the images and reading the story we both were enjoying. After finishing a book, it’s usually Si who asks for another, but tonight, it was me who made the request.
As Si searched her bookshelf, I saw her skip over one of my favorites, “Love Is.” Chronicle Books describes it as “the heartwarming story of a little girl and a duckling, who both grow to understand what it means to care for each other as they learn that love is as much about letting go as it is about holding on.”
As I read the story, I got to the part where the main character, a young girl, has to let her duck go into the water and be free. Parents absolutely understand the premise, but let me tell you, my daughter did not approve.
“Why did she let the duck go?”
“Well, Si, sometimes in life, people and even animals grow up, and eventually, you need to let them fly to become the individual they were meant to be.”
I was proud of that response. At that moment, my oldest daughter was downstairs, finishing her homework, and my youngest was in bed asking essential questions about the premise of this book. I don’t have babies anymore.
We had a good conversation about kids growing up and eventually starting their lives. I mentioned how it’s important to enjoy our time together now because today turns into tomorrow far quicker than we’re ever ready for.
“One day, you’re going to move out of this house and have a life of your own, Si, but just know, your mom and I will always be here for you, no matter what. You can always come home.”
My daughter looked at me with warmth. I thought my sentiment resonated with her. We’re getting to the stage where I can say things like that, and she understands my heart and the feelings behind my words.
But then Si turns to me and says, “Unless you pass away. Then you won’t be here, and other people can move into this house.”
All I could do was laugh and smile.
“Yup, I guess that’s true, Si, but hopefully, I’ll be around for a long time.”
Si responded with a smirk as if she knew she was ready to drop another gem.
“I said ‘pass away’ instead of ‘die’ because that sounds better.”
Man, I love being a dad.