There are words we use that only apply in the grown-up world. These are big words with big meanings.
To a kid, however, their vocabulary is different. They understand play, laugh, fun, and they do things like have sleep-overs and build tents out of blankets.
Little girls skip rope or maybe play with their dolls and have tea parties (if that’s their thing.) To a kid, their life is still so new. At least, it is supposed to be. They are young. They’re our children.
Beautiful as ever. They are pure to the core, learning, and blossoming into this world and about to partake in this thing we call life.
Kids understand the words, love, Mommy and Daddy, and they know to hold hands and to stay together, to share, to play nice, and to say things like please and thank you. Robert Fulghum writes about this very well and I have adapted his ideas in my own life.
Kids understand the words Grandma or grandpa because when you’re a kid, these words mean bedtime stories. They mean gifts. They mean a love unlike any other. Grandma and Grandpa mean everything.
In fairness, I’ve never had a Grandpa but I’ve always imagined both my Grandfathers and wondered what it was like to know them when they were alive.
As for Grandmas, I knew them both. I know one thing for sure, no touch in this world is as warm or as delicate as a touch from my grandmother’s hand. More preciously, no memory suits me better than the one I have during a Florida morning in Miami Beach, at 100 Lincoln Road, which is much different now than it was back then. But still, I remember . . .
There are words children should understand. Like ball or bicycle. They understand what the word imagine means.
They should know what it means to wonder. Otherwise, hatred, and prejudices, politics and social snobbery are adult words.
Words like opinionated are grown-up problems and should never be passed down, but yet, our kids learn these things from somewhere and yet, we wonder where.
My little girl used to have her own language. She used to mispronounce words. I swear this was a beautiful time. I swear hearing the word “Wiff,” as in “Daddy, will you lay wiff me,” was the most glorious thing ever.
There are more words like this. And I swear, I think if we parents ever got together, we could write a dictionary of words, like Tassie: [tah-see] which was my daughter’s pacifier.
I am sure there are more words like this—I bet there are millions of them that go back as long as time to the first born. These are the words only a child could understand. These are the words the should understand.
The story I am about to share with you was written for a little girl named Alison. However, the name is interchangeable and you will understand why after you read it. The following is very personal to me. But the following is where I draw my strength to fight back and empower our children.
“Daddy, tell me a story.”
spoke in a soft, loving voice.
Once upon a time there was a baby girl who came into the world with all the love anyone could ask for. She was so precious and had the sweetest smile. She was beautiful, happy, and precious as can be.
In the mornings, the little girl woke and laughed at the sparrows that chirped outside her window. At breakfast, she ate her favorite cereal and watched as Mommy helped Daddy get ready to start his day.
Daddy ate his scrambled eggs and toast, and then he rushed to make his morning train, so he could be at work on time.
The little girl’s day was filled with toys and dolls. She played pretend games and dressed her dolls for special tea times. And sometimes, Daddy would get down on the floor beside her and play along. They held parties at the little girl’s doll house.
Her older brother played along too, and they all laughed together as a family.
Lunchtime was always the most fun…
The little girl would surround herself with her bowls and spoons, and she would sing every song she knew. Mommy always sung along and so did her brother as he sat in the chair next to the little girl.
After lunch, the children would go outside and play in the yard. Mommy would sit close by to watch over them, and little girl’s brother would make pile of the autumn leaves, which had fallen to the ground. Then, the little boy scurried beneath the pile and leapt out with his arms high in the air shouting, “Ta-Da,” with all the colorful leaves flying up in the air.
In the summer, they would run under the lawn sprinkler, but the little girl would always scream, because the water was so cold. They played for hours until it was time to wash up.
At dinnertime; Daddy would come home from work and eat with his family. Everyone made sure to finish everything on their plates so they wouldn’t miss out on dessert. Chocolate chip cookies were always the favorite. Chocolate milk was good too, especially with a nice piece of cake. Afterwards, Daddy made sure everyone was ready for bed. Clean children slept between clean sheets with their teddy bears wrapped in their arms and sweet dreams to be had.
Some nights, Daddy would stand in the doorway of his little girl’s room and watch her sleep as the moonlight peaked through the curtains and touched upon his little girl’s face. This was truly the most beautiful little girl in the world
happened to that little girl?”
“Well sweetheart, you died just before you reached the age of two. And since then, not a day goes by that Daddy doesn’t think of you.”
Sleep well, Alison~
I told you in the beginning there are words that only apply to us adults and that children should never have to understand.
No child should ever have to understand what the word inoperable means. No child should ever learn the words Brain tumor or anything like this.
But life is life and fact is fact.
Sometimes life plays unfairly. I cannot change this or contend with it but I can write to you. I can make you think and feel. And hopefully, I can make you appreciate everything you have because everything you have is the most important thing in the world. I can fight back and no one can stop me from trying.
There is a girl I am praying for.
She is six
She is sick too
I invite you to pray as well.
(Here comes the rant)
Inoperable . . . Why should, any six year old have to understand what this word means? I can’t say
All I can say is sometimes children were meant to bud on earth only to blossom in Heaven
God, I get so angry sometimes. I swear, there is no theft worse than a child whose childhood was stolen from them. And sadly, there is nothing more unnatural in this world than a parent burying their child.
Hold well what you have and appreciate every second.