by Rob Taylor
It happens to everyone: that jolt that awakens the philosopher inside. Maybe it doesn’t happen often enough.
Flashback: 3 weeks ago …
I hammer away on my laptop while my 4-year-old stacks blocks. Suddenly, by stealth, she sidles up in her Ugg-boots, looks me square in the ear, says “daddy” and waits for a reaction she does not get.
It’s my loss.
Her wee voice fails to penetrate the spreadsheet-induced fog I’m in — the one hijacking my senses. Despite my pent-up, inappropriate seriousness, she presses on. One thing she knows: some things in life are more important than spreadsheets. She inches closer and percolates once more.
“Daddy,” she squeaks, louder, still sweet, yet with urgency – like Enya suddenly finding her “Enya Face” voice.
“Huh? Oh, hi honey!”
“I have a secret.”
“A secret? Well now, that’s delicious. What is it?”
“I know all about letters,” she whispers, cupping her hands, then pointing to the tower of blocks.
I stare at her creation, astonished to see the blocks bearing the letters ‘M’, ‘A’ and ‘D’ (for “Maddie”) stacked on top. Mouth agape, I look back at her.
Her smile is proud.
If not for her divine persistence, I would have missed it … over a spreadsheet. I blame me: I know better.
As far as announcements go, there are none more important than those of a 4-year-old … always delivered with drama and panache. Not a week earlier, she cornered me with her doctor kit and gave me my yearly physical: pulse, blood pressure, stethoscope, the whole enchilada. Turns out, I needed a shot. As she readied the plastic hypodermic needle, she rolled up my sleeve, eyeballed me and said with drummed up seriousness, “This won’t hurt, Daddy.”
I’d be lying if I told you that the twinkle in her eyes didn’t say something more, something sobering, something like, “Daddy! Hello? You in there? Life is happening. I’m all over it. Follow my lead.”
What other wake-up calls lie ahead? I can only speculate. For now, I’m still digesting, “Daddy, I know all about letters.” After she whispered it, I snatched her up onto my lap, intrigued by this waist-high creature with a heart full of all things worth exploring. We laughed. We squeezed. And from somewhere underneath the skin, the Longfellow within me sprang to life:
Daddy, I know all about letters;
The ins, the outs,
The ups, the downs,
The loops, the sounds:
ALL about letters.
“Tell me about the letters, honey,” I said.
As her eyes beamed back at me, her thoughts were laid bare: You finally got it, Daddy. I’m sooooo happy.
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