It was Labor Day weekend of 2010. Autumn, Liam, and I were at church (Avery was at his mother’s that weekend). The church was having a baptismal service at a large outdoor amphitheater. I don’t remember the exact number of people there, but it was the largest gathering in the church’s history. This is a church that regularly has 5 services on Sundays and one on Saturday, so it was a lot of people.
Liam was just a few months over 1-year old and was really getting used to being able to run around all over the place. Of course, that meant he was no longer content to simply sit and enjoy the fresh air. After a particularly long period of sitting still, he’d had enough and got up to run around. I went after him to make sure he didn’t bother anyone. And to make sure he didn’t get lost. But mostly to make sure he didn’t bother anyone.
At first, I was quite a few steps behind him, but after about 5 minutes, he ran all the way to the top of the hill and stopped just short of the parking lot. He turned around to go back down the hill and as I caught up to him, my shadow fell across his own. He watched intently as my shadow completely blotted his out on the concrete. Laughing, he moved around watching our shadows meld and separate.
I remember feeling a similar sense of fatherly pride at his wonder. I also remember being a little sad, knowing that one day he would grow so tall that my shadow wouldn’t be able to cover him completely–that I wouldn’t be able to protect him forever. I thought back to how quickly Avery had grown and knew that it would happen again with Liam. I promised myself, of course, that I would pay closer attention to the times I would have, knowing that I would fail more often than not. Whenever I think about this day, I am reminded to stop obsessing over the things I want to do for me and instead enjoy the little things my children enjoy when I’m around. I won’t be able to enjoy them forever.
