Daddy!

We ate out after church yesterday, at one of the Japanese places that have the hibachi choice.

Shortly after we were seated, a young family was placed next to us. Their baby boy (I later learned he was eleven months old). was seated between them, and they entertained him with bites of cucumber, and something they  had with him. As long as he was chewing something, he was pretty content. He smiled sweetly at Daughter and me, but mostly was occupied with his mama.

But when the chef rolled in, that baby sat straight up. He placed his little hands on the table, his eyes got wide, and he stared straight at the cook.

His daddy said, "He loves this, we've done it before."

That child never took his eyes off the cook. When he juggled his knife and spatula, when he made a smiley face on the grill, when he lit the fire and singed our eyebrows. Not once.

But when the fire was lit, the child reached with his hand and held his daddy's shirt sleeve. His daddy put his arm around the baby's shoulders and said, "Here I am, Buddy."

That's all the boy needed to keep his fascination going. As long as daddy was close by, he knew he was safe, and could enjoy the show.

I've seen that so many times: When a child wants comforting, feeding, cuddling, washing, whatever; he goes to mama. But when he wants protection of any kind, daddy is the only one that will do. When my nephew was about seven, he was spending the night at our house. As it grew dark and he realized Husband wasn't going to be there, he became fearful and opined we should  not stay there without "DAHVID" due to werewolves.

I saw it in my own child. I bet you've seen it in yours, if your child has a daddy.

It saddens me that more and more children are being raised without a daddy. Maybe he's deceased, maybe he ran away, maybe he's kept away for punishments sake, maybe mama didn't want a daddy and used a sperm donor or a friend. Maybe the kid has two mamas. Whatever. 

All I  know is; it breaks my heart.

Private Grief in a Public Place

My father  had been quite ill and in the hospital for several days.

I  had a few hours of sleep and was getting ready to head back to the hospital. I was very tired, but my hair was a mess and I wanted to wash it before I went back.

Just as I got it washed, I heard someone pull up in front of our house. At that time, if someone was on our road, they were either lost, trying to find a private place to park for who knows what, or they were really coming to our house.

It was a cousin, who parked frantically and ran to our front door. He said I needed to get to the hospital right away, Daddy had taken a turn for the worse - much worse.

The cousin had tried to call, but they were working on the lower road and had accidentally cut the phone lines.

So with soaking wet hair, he took me to the hospital. Husband followed closely behind, as soon as he could lock up the house.

When we got there, I saw three people simultaneously.

The first was one of my mental health patients. She had bi-polar disorder with psychotic features, and I knew if she was hanging around the emergency room door, things weren't going well with her. She was staring at me as I got out of the car. I guess she'd never seen me in an old t-shirt and dripping wet hair.

The other two people I saw were my twin brothers. They had an identical look on their face, and they didn't have to say a word.

I knew my daddy was gone as soon as I saw them. The one standing nearest me (I can't remember which one)  opened his arms and I flew into them, sobbing. My other brother stood, patting me on the back, as we three cried for our daddy.

There was a separate part of me very aware that I had an unstable patient watching me fall completely apart. And somewhere in my brain I felt concern for her, hoping this would not make her go off the deep end.

Grieving like this, hearing something like this, in a very  public place is a terrible thing. There is nothing you can do to control what you do because you can't control what you hear and know.

The next day (or maybe that evening) I talked with someone from work and told them what the patient had witnessed, telling them to check on her.

But you know what? She had already called my office and warned them about me and the terrible state I was in.  She told them they needed to check on me and pray for me because my daddy had died.

Well, what do you know. She had been listening. She had learned how to behave appropriately in a sad situation. She had learned to set her own woes aside for the moment and think of someone else.

What she saw was a growing experience for her. It actually helped her.

What I came away with from that story is people are a lot stronger than we give them credit for. Our children are stronger, our elderly parents are stronger. Heck, even our mentally ill folks are stronger.

There's hope in this world, isn't there?

Because we know how to pull together when we need to the most.

So let folks know what is going on. Don't keep them in the dark to "protect" them from bad or sad news.

Give them the chance to grow.

Give them a chance to show you they can be strong too.