My daughter started her Spring Break this morning. Apparently schools have not adjusted to the fact that the majority of families that send their children to them consist of two working parents since I was a kid, and she gets two full weeks off. This means a longer drive each morning to drop her off at the in-laws for the day.
On this particular morning we were driving past an industrial area on the Golden State Freeway, and a smokestack that was billowing thick plumes of dark vapor into the air caught her attention. She panicked.
“Daddy! Daddy! Somebody’s house has fire! Somebody’s house has fire!” I could hear that she was actually very worried that someone was losing their home, and thought quickly.
“No, sweetie, that’s a factory. That smoke is coming from whatever they’re making inside.”
“A fac-tree?” she asked, a little calmer now. I paused, thought for a second, then went on.
“Remember The Lorax?” Remember how the Onecler comes along and starts making all of those thneeds? Its like that. Maybe the Onceler has a new factory over there.”
Now it was her turn to think. After a moment, she asked quietly “Is that Onceler in there burning all the Truffula trees?” to which I replied “If he puts up enough of those factories, he might…just like in the book.”
She was silent for at least five minutes, and I immediately felt a bit concerned that I had frightened her. Right as I was going to say something, she stated matter-of-factly,
“Don’t worry, daddy. That only happens in books.”
Anyone who knows me knows that in my quest to instill an unrealistic amount of knowledge into my daughter’s brain at a way-too-young age knows that I immediately began preparing a mental diatribe about the effects of global warming, the polar ice cap and how her generation would be responsible for saving the world, if it wasn’t already too late, and that is why we don’t throw our lollipop wrappers out of the window.
Then I thought about tiny little Maddie, who was taken so, so unfairly from this earth a couple of days ago, perhaps even before she had the chance to know who The Lorax even was, and I thought about what it really meant to be a father and, more importantly to be a child. I thought about Maddie’s innocence. She had done nothing, was not even capable of doing anything yet to deserve the injustice of her passing, and I cursed myself for being in such a hurry to rush my daughter into adulthood. Maddie led a beautiful existence; although I do not know her or her family personally, the love that they had for one another is clearly evident in their photos.
For a second, I hated myself for not simply letting my daughter just be a kid, and scorned myself for all the scolding, correcting, frustration and anger I have ever had towards her in her four years on this planet. In feeling these things; in not simply sitting back and joyously recording each and every moment I have with her, even the awful ones, I have been disrespecting Maddie and her parents, Heather and Mike, and I am sorry for that.
With a little lump in my throat, I let go and simply replied “That’s right, sweetie. It only happens in books.”
She put her head on her car seat and went right to sleep.
-Matt
The March of Dimes is an organization that is near and dear to both Aline and myself. We encourage anyone interested to make a donation in her name.