Life lessons are funny things. You just never know where they will come from, or the sometimes mysterious ways your kids are making connections with important people in their lives.
Over the last couple of years, I’ve been going to the local “Y” 2-3 times a week, and I usually take my two youngest sons (now 5 and 7) to the KidZone there. It’s one of those rooms with a big climbing thing and a slide and a bunch of other cool stuff to climb in and through. Kid heaven, pretty much.
During certain hours, the “Y” provided some of their babysitting help to keep an eye on the KidZone and keep everybody from hurting themselves or each other. One of the kids was named Dan.
They always had a good time there, but most especially when Dan was on duty. In fact, they only wanted to go when Dan was on duty.
He is a local high school kid, a senior now, and is great with young kids. He acted like a big brother to my young boys, playing games with them, playing catch with a racquetball or tennis ball, supervising games of tag. He talked to them, he answered their incessant questions; especially Jacob, the older of the two, who will drill you with questions for as long as your patience allows it. He let the kids play, but had enough common sense to stop things that looked dangerous.
Dan is good people, and I complimented him on how good he was with my kids, and told him they only wanted to go there when he was there. In fact, often part of our good-bye process was making sure we knew when he was working next, in case the normal schedule was interrupted. Yeah, we were pretty plugged in with Dan.
So a couple of months ago, Dan tells me he is quitting. He’s going to a new job, more business-focused, because he plans to major in business in college. And, he’s moving at the end of the summer, with his family. Far, far away.
I knew Jacob especially would have a tough time with this. Jordan, the younger child, probably not so much; he doesn’t seem to have trouble recovering. And we still had two weeks before Dan’s last day, and so we made sure to get there as often as we could. And, kids being kids, they didn’t seem too upset by the impending Last Day of Dan.
But the Last Day arrived, and as we were saying our good-byes, and Jacob realized this was actually, finally, the last time he might ever see Dan, he got pretty choked up. On the way out to the car he started crying, and wanted to know if he could call Dan, and when Dan might come back to the “Y” to say hi. He even wanted to go visit Dan at his new job, which I didn’t think his new boss at the tele-sales company would appreciate too much.
Still, crying 7 year old, losing his first good pal. This was tough stuff. I knew in my head that we weren’t likely to ever see Dan again, since he was moving in a few months anyway, and I was a little bit sad too, but I knew that people come and go in our lives, and that the closer you get to people, the more of yourself you risk, and when you lose them, the more you will hurt. There isn’t much anybody can do about it, except enjoy our friends and family today, in the here and now.
But good luck explaining that to a young boy who is losing a pal for the first time. I just didn’t know what to really say to Jacob; I’m not very good at comforting words. I didn’t want to lie to him and say we would definitely get to see Dan soon, and I didn’t want to rip his heart out and stomp on it by saying we would never see him again. So I left the door open, saying maybe Dan would come back and visit. I knew Jacob would hurt a little bit for a few days, but figured he would eventually get over it, and that such a lesson is a useful one in growing up, even though it hurts. The important lessons often do.
So time went by, and Jacob didn’t really mention Dan much any more. Until last night. Ten minutes after he went to bed, he came downstairs crying, and through his tears he told us that he misses Dan. Uh-oh. Again, I was stuck for a good blend of hopeful words with a dash of realism. Finally, I said we could try to get Dan’s phone number from the people at the Y, and try to call him, and maybe we could even see him. Jacob was happy to hear of that plan.
And so we will. I hope they give it to us, because it would just mean the world to my 7 year old son to be able to see Dan again, even if Dan does have to move many states away in just a few months. And it would mean he can still believe in miracles for a while longer, and transition into the Life Without Dan phase of his life at a speed more to his liking.
And it would mean that we have both learned a little something about ourselves, and maybe grown a little in the process.
But even if we can’t find Dan again, I’m glad my kids knew him for a little while, and I know they will always have fond memories of their time with him. And that is something for which I am very, very thankful.
