On Children

Remember that first time you held your child? You were somewhere. You remember the place. Your child was put into your arms and you saw all of the potential. Your child was perfect. It didn't matter if he was bald, had hair, pooped on you, or cried. Your child was perfect.

I remember the first time I held my oldest son. Heck, I remember the first time I held all of my children. My baby girl was at the hospital. My three boys were all at the adoption agency. But that first time you hold your baby is so special, so amazing, such an event. We really don't appreciate that enough.

We were at the adoption agency. They brought him in to the room. He was amazing. Brown eyes, brown hair. We have a picture of that time. His big head on my arms and I smiled. I looked at my wife and called him "Munch." It was a dumb nickname but it was perfect for him. My little munchkin. We spent the night at a hotel. I had no idea what I was doing with a baby. Thankfully my wife was there. Then we got on a plane and flew home the next day.

I even remember my first diaper change. We were on a United Airlines flight from New York to San Francisco. My wife had a headache. I said I would change his diaper. I took him to the bathroom and laid out the little diaper changing pad. How hard could this really be? I took off his diaper, wiped him, and turned around to throw it away. When I turned back, I was looking at the Trevi Fountain. (Google it, people.) Someone forgot to warn me that a baby boy will pee like this when you take off his diaper. OOPS! Live and learn. I remember it like it was yesterday.

But what do you feel when your perfect baby isn't? I don't mean that he punches another kid or doesn't do his homework. Heck, I barely did homework from 3rd grade through my junior year of high school. All kids make mistakes. All kids screw up. But what do you feel when your child has problems?

We have all experienced pain. I lost both of my parents. It was two different ways. My dad passed away suddenly, unexpectedly. With my mom, we knew it was coming. Both sucked. Both hurt. But we all know starting at about 9 that life means death. We all have to go. (Although I don't for a minute believe the end of the world is tomorrow.) So that pain comes and we can grieve.

Maybe we lose a friend. Maybe we have our heart broken. That pain is real too. It hurts. We find a way to deal with it.

But what do you do when the pain can't be fixed? Today, my oldest son has to go to LA for a few weeks. Alone. I can't be there with him. And it hit me today - I can't fix him. I want to. I need to. But I can't. Its a tradition in my family. Dad could always fix anything. Need a water pump for a 71 Skylark while you are stuck in the middle of NY? Dad can find one. Need an extra $20 to take your girlfriend on a date? Dad can help you out. Need to get over a broken heart? Dad has a remedy for that. Need to get over a fight with mom? Dad knows how to do that too. Can't move and need a wheelchair that will help you get around at the beach? Yep, dad could get that too.

But now dad doesn't have a fix. Dad can't just make this go away. I can't. And if my dad was here today, he couldn't either. Its a feeling of helplessness that I can't explain. I don't know the relationship between moms and sons or between moms and daughters. I know the relationship between dad and son. Its a special one, and I guess a lot like the relationship between a mother and a daughter. But when the son can't be fixed and when the son has problems that the dad can't solve, what do you do?

I wish I had an answer. Green Day says make the best of life and don't ask why. "It's not a question/but a lesson learned in time." If I take this approach, I guess I don't need an answer. But it seems lacking. It seems like the Budweiser commercial. "Why ask why, try Bud Dry." We see how well that made it. They haven't made Bud Dry since about 1988. It sucked - or so I was told.

Maybe now is not the time for an answer. Maybe now is the time to just ask questions. Maybe there is no answer today, this week, this month. Maybe the answer will come to me in time. Maybe the answer is that he ended up with us because he needed people who could give him the resources that he needed. After all, the odds of a child born in New York and ending up with a family from California are pretty slim. The odds of that child being able to live with two biological siblings are even slimmer. So maybe that is it. Maybe its simple. Someone had a plan for him and knew he would be special. And because he was special, he needed people who could give him access to the things that would give him some quality of life. At least for now, that answer is satisfying enough.