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In finding myself in the throws of the home stretch of my wife’s pregnancy, I also find myself struggling for time. That’s why I was thrilled to receive this guest post from one of my oldest friends, Dave. I’ve known this guy for over thirty years, and he still manages to write stuff that surprises me. He doesn’t have a blog, he’s not even on Facebook (I know, huh? No, I don’t know what’s wrong with him), but he’ll be lurking around, so feel free to drop him a comment and he’ll see it. – Matt
The sun was setting slowly in the summer sky. I hit the gas and breezed through the orange stoplight. Horns echoed behind me on both sides. The screech of my tires was in perfect harmony with the scream of the woman I zipped past as I rounded the last turn before my street.
Thirty-two minutes, I said to myself as I dropped the car into “P”. A new record. It was Friday and my son was waiting, wide-eyed on the front porch with a bag of beef jerky and a bottle of orange Gatorade.
‘Hang on, two seconds,’ I muttered as I dashed past him and into the house to drop off my laptop and work bag.
I was back out within two minutes. Ty was already sitting in his convertible, waiting.
I jumped in and we exchanged anticipating glances. He hit the gas, the engine whizzed and we took off. Both of our faces immediately reclaimed lost smiles. Happiness set in.
I LIVE for these moments.
It was a typical California evening: 80 degrees, warm breeze laden with the scent of jasmine and several other flower varietals as we passed house after house bursting with blooms and color. The palm trees swayed to and fro like the watch of a well trained hypnotist. It set the mind at ease in a way only thought imaginable in a dream.
Ty suddenly yanked the wheel hard-right and pulled up onto the sidewalk. We both laughed and he continued down the sidewalk. We roared past driveway, then yard, driveway…narrowly missing sprinkler heads and a small dog. An old couple saw us coming from down the path and moved into the street to avoid our car. Ty and I casually waived and said ‘hello’ as we cruised past them on the sidewalk.
We rounded another corner and he skidded the car directly into a fence. Leaves flew high into the air and the Gatorade I had just sipped shot out into a fine orange mist. He giggled uncontrollably. Suddenly, he hopped out of the car, grabbed a handful of flowers and then back into the car.
‘For mommy,’ he said. And we took off again.
Ten minutes later, the sun had officially set and we were left with an artificial sky – the kind of thing you see in photos that have been touched up to sell vacations on islands. Our pleasure cruise was coming to an end.
‘We’d better turn around, buddy.’
He looked at me with eyes like I had just sold all of his toys…’OK, daddy.’
He pulled the car around and we crept back home – past freshly picked flower stems, the old couple and a now-barking dog. I crossed my arms behind me and took a deep breath.
My son had just turned 3 years old and I knew that times like these would eventually fade into distant memories. Memories that would be severely trumped by gas-powered cars, borrowing Daddy’s keys and a scary little thing called a drivers license. I shuttered.
Then I looked at Ty and his cartoon-sized smile. He glanced back at me and I knew at that moment that his memories of these times would stick with him for the rest of his life. They would sit in the back of his mind, but not too far out of reach – where he could grab them any time he wanted and re-live the moments in perfect detail: the smells, the sounds…the laughter, the smiles.
Another deep breath.
A smile.
I LIVE for these moments.
-Dave
May 5th, 2009 at 10:21 pm
What a great story. That Dave must be such a terrific daddy. You have a great friend there, Matt! -valerie
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May 5th, 2009 at 11:35 pm
Good story Dave! thank you for sharing it with us here at The Playpen! So true, those stolen moments are the best and the ones we will always remember long after our kiddos are grown and moved out. I also know that on that special day you left a lasting memory on Ty yourself, cause that’s just the kind of Daddy you are…
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