Sneaking Up On You

There is a time, when you hold tight to your baby and they just lay there in your arms. They look at you with slightly muddy, baby vision and start to identify that you are someone who will protect them and love them. Your fears are simple: are they eating enough? drinking enough? dry in the diaper area? Slowly, as you change diapers and wipe noses, they learn to sit and then stand and then walk. They toddle for awhile and you hold your breath as they fall over and over again. They develop language. First one word, then two, then sentences, then they prattle on incessantly.

I am reminded of those TV commercials that compress a person's entire life into a 30-second spot. They show, for example, a young boy playing with a ball and bat, then climbing on the bus, then off to college, married, cradling his own baby, then biking with his own kids, then grandkids, and finally, sitting in a chair peacefully overlooking the many generations he has spawned. Those ads make me livid. HOW DARE YOU SELL A CREDIT CARD BY MAKING ME CRY LIKE THIS!!! I certainly don't want the impermanence of life used to persuade me into a new credit card or life insurance or Kleenex.

But, in some sense, those ads reveal a truth. Time sneaks up on you. You have a teeny baby and then, one day, you look up and they are running down the beach away from you. They have become a kid. They are not a baby. They are not a toddler. They are independent and capable. They have taken off and are running down the beach away from you. You want to drop the camera and chase after them. Swaddle them in a beach towel and hold them tight. But, you don't, you let them have some distance, you capture the moment on film instead. You are a good parent. You let them go, however hard it is for you, because you know that that is what is best for them.