Leaving My Daughter Behind
Last night, about midnight, I heard whimpering. I put my ear up to the baby monitor. It was coming from my two-year-old son's room. It didn't sound desperate, so I figured I'd let him try to settle down.
But the whimpering kept going, so I went to go down to check on him.
On the way downstairs to my son's room, I glanced in at my five-year-old daughter. She was gone.
Panicked, I rushed downstairs. She was sitting with her knees pulled up to her face outside my son's door, whimpering.
I said, "Sweetheart, oh my goodness, what's the matter?"
She said, "You left me behind."
I said, "Oh, no sweetheart. I didn't leave you behind. I had my door shut so I wouldn't wake you up with the light. I would never leave you behind."
I picked her up and tucked her into bed next to me. She was glued to me the whole night. I didn't sleep very well, but she did.
She had a tough day yesterday. Went over to a friend's house, where her friend's mom reported that the friend had a melt-down. When I walked in, it was clear that a good time was not being had. She said she never wanted to go over to her friend's house again.
She later asked, "Daddy, what if you die?"
A little later, she asked, "What if mommy dies?"
My little girl is growing up.
Most of us have already grown up. Most of us are alive, but most of us are alive while drowning. This is the human condition - to avoid drowning for as long as possible.
How to hold my little girl and keep her afloat in a world where so few are saved from drowning? How to trust that she'll learn to swim, that avoiding drowning won't be so scary, that she'll get used to it, like we all do?

