Monday, January 11, 2010


We were selling one of the kids beds on craigslist. Not, like, as a punishment, or anything...Ave was given a new one from his grandma.

The lady who came to look at the bed, happened to be an old friend.

A mom of a kid Avery used to play football with, four years ago. We were both surprised to see a familiar face when I opened the door, and it took just a minute to recall that she was one of my favorite football moms.

Our boys only played one season together. Avery aged out of that division, her son didn't, we lost touch.

We chit-chatted for a while catching up. Remarking at how time is flying. Just as she was asking me, "...and how are the babies," she noticed a recent picture of Jack on my wall. As she remembered the wispy curls that framed his face, his mischievous nature, and chubby cheeks, tears welled in her eyes. Triggering mine to do the same.

He was only two when she'd known him. Just a baby. He is now the same age as Avery was, when he played ball with her son.

Father time is relentless.

I asked about her boy. He was one of the best looking kids I've ever seen. Handsome. Sweet. Amazingly beautiful eyes. Just like hers.

She told me that her boy couldn't play football after that season, because they found he had an eye condition. One that was degenerative. One that couldn't be helped, or fixed, or stalled. One that will eventually rob him of his sight.

The tears that had welled in my eyes, over my son's fading baby face, began to burn, for her son's fading sight.

We talked for a while longer, then she left.

Since then, I've been thinking. About her boy. About him losing his sight.

I would imagine it's an oddly beautiful and cruel thing to know that one day, your child will never see again. The cruelty of him being robbed of one of his most important senses. And the beauty in being able to show him as much of the world, as you can, before it's gone.

People have their "bucket lists" of things they want to do before they die. What would top my "bucket list," of the sights and beauty that I'd want to show my child, before he was blind.

Sunrises. Sunsets. Mountains. Oceans. Canyons. Movies. Art. Pyramids. Deserts. Small towns. Big cities. Family, far and near.

That all seems trite.

Still, I pondered the fragility of it all. Time. Health. Life.

Father time is a relentless ass!


Tessa said...

wow. that's intense. We are so vulnerable when it comes to our children. My kids and I give thanks every night for the things we are blessed with but tend to take advantage of. Thanks for sharing, I will hold them in my thoughts and prayers.

Anonymous said...

I've wondered this before actually. The only things I can think that I would actually miss and be heartbroken if I forgot are the faces of my family, especially my kids.

It would suck so bad to be in that position to know it's going to happen to your child. Helplessness is not my forte.

Punchkin Wear said...

Delete the previous comment. I hate spamming a-holes, especially on a post like this.

It is awful to think that you can see one day and know that time is limited. How do you even explain that to your child?

Kameron said...

Oh and that last comment was me...stupid blogger switching accounts when i wasn't paying attention!

Kimmy said...

*sigh* Wow...that's really heavy. Such a sad thing. I couldn't imagine knowing my child would suffer such a lose. How heartbreaking. Just another reminder that we shouldn't take the precious things in our life, the things we least think about, for granted. Thanks for sharing and reminding us of all the important things in life.

Anonymous said...

You can make me laugh and cry...from reading about your son's smelly feet to your chance meeting with an old friend. Wonderful writing! I'm glad that I am not the only one who tears up when I see my girls' baby pictures. So sad about that child losing his sight. It puts many of life's small issues (that we think are big) into perspective.


Heidi said...

My nephew has that disease. Or one that sounds just like it. And so does my brother in law. It's hard to see that every year he needs new adjustments just to go to school, that he can go to "blind camp."

Nikki B. said...

tessa - i've lost a kid, i should never, ever take anything for granted...yet, i still do! it's a shame.

robin - i think family would be the most important...i don't know!

kam - i don't know if it would be better to have seen, and lost it...or, never to have seen at all.

kimmy - i just kept telling her...i'm sorry. i'm so sorry. she probably thinks i'm ridiculous...but, for some reason, it really hit me!

wendy - thanks so much. i have never teared up like least, not in a while...and her story really hit me, and seeing her well up over my kids growing, when she's got stuff on her own plate. she is such a kind woman! thanks for the compliment!

heidi - i just can't imagine it. i really can't!