Tuesday, August 09, 2011

Dear Pai Rae ...

Oh dear granddaughter. The world has gone and done it to you already. You are not even two yet and already you feel the sting of loneliness and the confusion of change. It seems that your precious sister has deserted you on your morning drive to day care in favor of kindergarten. You must ride in the back seat of mom's Jeep all by yourself. Even your once-a-week buddy, Judah, has deserted you for another set of friends in another day care! If you only had the ability to master the english language I'm sure your cry would be, "No fair!"

I hate to break it to you, child, but you are right. It is no fair. And I hate to break this to you even more ... life itself is no fair.

Your mom said you just leaned your head on the side of your car seat this morning and cried. Gosh I wish I could have been there. I would have cried with you. Or ... maybe better yet ... we could have figured out a game to play. Or maybe we could have held hands. Oh! Or we could have eaten Oreo's with wonderfully cold milk! And we would never have told your mother. Nah. She wouldn't be mad. But let her get her own Oreos. :) Sometimes a grandpa and a granddaughter just have to keep their secrets, ya know?

Listen to me, little one. There are going to be days when the playground feels a little lonely. Sometimes your friends just won't act like friends. And it's true that, on occasion, families are even far apart for a season. Those things will wound your heart. And I'd do anything ... ANYTHING ... to protect your heart. I'll do my best to always be around but it's possible that someday I won't be. So I want you to remember something. Something really important.

Today I walked through a huge museum and looked at airplanes and space ships. They were all famous. It was a fun place. And then I came across one particular space ship. A "capsule" really. It was nicknamed "The Friendship 7." One day nearly 50 years ago a man climbed into it all alone. His mom and dad were down on the ground. His brothers and sisters were too. Most of his friends were hundreds of miles away. And when this guy got into his space ship the lit the fuse on the rocket under him and he zoooooomed off into outer space. And for a few brief orbits around our planet he was really truly alone. l As alone as a person can be. But the man had one thing working for him. He couldn't see his friends but he could still talk to them. They had these really old style radio things that were all scratchy and garbled. But they could still understand each other. And the man in the capsule said that those voices were a bit of "home" to him while he was way out in the middle of no where.

That's kind of the way life is, Pais. Sometimes friends go away. Sometimes they might even get all messed up and stop being your friend. I'm sorry, little girl, but I have to tell you that it happens. But here's the thing. If you are ever all alone and you need someone to love you ... someone to talk to ... please feel free to punch the right numbers into your own phone (or your mom's!) and I will move heaven and earth to be there for you. Lot's of people will. But do me a favor, please. Keep me near the top of your phone book. Because you, sweet Paisley, will always be on the top of mine.

A sorta old man love you ... a lot.


Stephanie said...

This is precious. I promise there will be some days that you appreciate the break from your big sis, Pais. Until then ... it's ok to cry, kiddo. :)

Kelli said...

Ummm...yeah, that's what i mean to say :) well worded, dad!

Anonymous said...

This was so sweet...I'm sitting here crying for Pais, crying because I remember Bennett being so forlorn for a few days when Luke went to school, crying for my own mom...

Thanks a lot, Ron!

Just kidding :). It was really beautiful.