May 2022: Hugging them tighter

This month, I wanted to write something fun and light. 

I drafted up a few paragraphs about Jordan’s Kentucky Derby themed birthday party.

I thought through a few ideas from our family beach trip with the Fuentes.

But on Wednesday morning, as I returned to my car in the daycare parking lot, I was overcome by a nauseating rush of emotions. And if the whole point of this blog is to capture moments and reflect on meaningful experiences from a specific point in my life – I couldn’t ignore this moment.

For the most part, it was an ordinary drop off at school. Jack waddled joyfully into his class high fiving his teachers and shouting cheerful commands for a “Snack!” Charlie insisted on giving me another tour of her classroom to show me the picture she painted, the flower she planted, and the ladybug she made. After saying Goodbye to the kids with a hug and a kiss, I waved to some of the familiar parents and hustled back to my car to head to work. I changed my CarPlay from the Moana soundtrack to a new podcast episode and was ready to shift the car into gear when it all hit me.

Here’s what ran through my head:

I don’t know how we keep letting horrific events like Uvalde happen.

I don’t know why we refuse to show some common sense and do something about it.   

I can’t imagine what these parents would give for one more day with their child.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring for any of us.

I don’t know how to process these feelings.

But here’s what I do know.

I know I love my kids more than anything.

I know that we need to do something.

And I know for each new day that I get with Charlie and Jack:

I’ll hug them tighter.

Laugh with them louder.

Play with them longer.

Be more patient and present.

And give them everything I’ve got for as long as I’ve got.

After taking a deep breath, I put the car in drive, wiped my tears, and went about my day.

When I picked the kids up 8 hours later, Jack came running out with dried snot around his nose, blueberry stains on his shirt, and a big smile on his face yelling “Dada!” Charlie came skipping out of the building to show me the medal she received from Soccer Shots. On the way home, Jack mumbled a bunch of gibberish and Charlie rambled on about her friends and all the fun things they did at school.

But I tragically recognize that some parents weren’t blessed with this opportunity last week.

Wednesday I felt sad. Thursday I felt angry. Friday I felt lucky. Right now, I feel motivated to contribute to a solution. But today and every day forward, I’m hugging my kids a little tighter.