A Boy and His Dad


I learned this lesson a few years ago. God made sure of that. How did I forget so soon? When Julia was 14 months old, Jeff went to Uganda for about 3 weeks. I hadn’t had so much trouble with her before or since. There were moments I wondered who she was. There were several incidences and episodes over those days, but the one that is burned in my memory forever is a plane trip to Savannah, Georgia. As soon as the wheels were pulled up under us she began crying, flailing, screaming, foaming, screeching and didn’t stop until her head sort of crashed into my hands asleep as the wheels hit the ground. There was one dear lady on the plane that didn’t glare a whole in my face. Even crying myself didn’t get me any pity from the other spectators. To sort of crown the whole nightmare, when I got off the plane my parents didn’t even see me! I walked right past them and waited on a bench for an hour. When we finally found each other, I remember telling them through tears that I was driving home because at least then I could strap her to the roof. In the moment, THAT was the level of my frustration. However, I found that the next morning, she was my favorite little girl again. When Jeff returned 2 weeks later, Julia was back to normal as she found much security in her Daddy being home. This was a significant realization for me as every now and then (when I was irritated with Jeff) I would have these delusional idiotic thoughts that I could do this thing on my own. (Young and VERY stupid, I know.)
Jeff was gone all week this week and Brighton and I had an interesting time. When I would talk to Jeff at night, he would ask about the kids and in every conversation I found myself divulging incriminating evidence against Brighton. “Brighton was really just a whiny boy today.” “Brighton couldn’t do ANYTHING by himself today.” “Brighton disobeyed me some today,” and so on. Jeff would remind me he still might be a little sick and I would agree and buck up for the next day. Every morning when I would get the children up, B would ask if Daddy was downstairs. Sadly, I would tell him no and remind him where Daddy was and that he would be home on Friday after we got back from story time. Almost every afternoon, he would ask one of my favorite questions (truly), “Are we going to eat happy as a family tonight?” He uses ‘happy as a family’ anytime he means all together. I ALWAYS hate saying no to this one but I had to keep saying no, but would try to comfort him with “Mommy, Julia and Brighton will.” It never brought the desired response to his sweet little face.
Jeff returned yesterday and was welcomed by a committee of 3 in the driveway. Brighton ran back in the house to grab the homemade cookies we had made and plated up for Jeff. I noticed, then, how excited he was. As we went about our afternoon, I was walking through the house, hearing a very familiar sound that I realized I hadn’t heard as much this week. Brighton was chattering away to his Daddy in the next room. It hit me then. He’s has been missing his Daddy. I walked into our bedroom where they were and I heard Brighton say, “We are ‘dangerous’ boys, aren’t we, Daddy?” (Maybe I can explain that term another time.) “We sure are, Brighton. You and me,” Jeff confirmed.

The weekend is moving along and Big B has stuck closely to Jeff when possible, making it visibly evident he is happy Daddy’s back. The security that Jeff's presence brings to our home can't compare to even 1000 days of my undivided attention. A boy needs his Daddy. Jeff is now home and all is right in Brighton’s world again.

Comments

TJ Wilson said…
Dangerous boys, huh? Precious. Love getting the details of the Sanders' home, K!

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