THE EXISTENTIAL LIFE OF A 5 YEAR OLD

As I sit here on a cold January morning, my mind wanders back to warmer days. I do that too often—a bad habit of trying to live in more satisfying times (spring and summer) when I’m stuck with something I don’t want (cold winter). Living in the present could be a New Year’s resolution. But I don’t believe in New Year’s resolutions. Mine are broken before I can even start. Like eating less candy and salt (not together). That never lasts more than a day. Being less cranky. That one never gets off the ground, since making New Year's resolutions makes me crabby from the get-go

So I continue on my backward path, back to a warm summer evening with Avery. A couple of years ago, Tracy and Jonah were visiting. Avery must have been 4 or 5. As always, I hate to see them leave, so I slid into the seat beside her for just another precious moment before they pulled away. As I looked at that beautiful face, I said “When Grandpa and I found that you were our granddaughter, we knew that we were the luckiest people in the world because you are a special gift.” Avery looked at me for a moment and came out with one of her most mystifying comments. “I’m just a random person in a random place.”, she said. Before I could ask her to elaborate, Howard got me out of the car and the kids drove away. 

I told Howard about Avery’s comment. He also thought that it was extraordinary. I know that I sound like a bragging Nana, and perhaps I am. But a comment like that from a child that age is rather stunning. Periodically over the last few years, I’ve mulled that little scenario over in my head. Did she hear those words somewhere? Even if she did, the use of the words was contextually appropriate. But what was she thinking?

Finally, a few months later, I reminded her of that moment and asked what she meant. She remembered, but had trouble articulating the meaning behind the words. She made some hand gestures, facial gestures, but verbally, all I got was “You know——random”. The body language told me that she knew what she meant, but she couldn’t express it in words.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago. Avery’s now 7, almost 8. I’ve been stewing over her answer for a few years now. I still needed to know what she meant. She has a good self image, so I didn’t think that she was undermining herself. But what was in her head? (Maybe losing some of my tenacity should be a New Year’s resolution—if I believed in them.)  

On ta Saturday a few weeks ago, Howard and I took Avery to a Chinese restaurant for lunch. How different now from a few years ago. Back then, I would have to play a game to coax her to eat. I’d cock my head to the side towards her plate and say “Do you hear that?” She’d look at me intently as I went on to tell her that something coming from her plate was saying “Eat me” in a high soft voice. After all, food shouldn’t sound like people—or more specifically, like Nana. She’d ask me which piece was asking to be eaten. I’d tell her, and she’d eat it. And so it went until she finished. Back to the present. Not only didn’t she need coaxing, Howard and I let her take the lead and order for all of us. She did a great job. Best scallion pancakes we’d ever had. As we talked about school and activities and life in general, I went back to that summer, which now seemed so long ago. She remembered that moment now, when I asked “What did you mean when you said ‘I’m just a random person in a random place’?” 

All of these years, I had been looking for some intricate, mysterious meaning. I was wrong. Avery explained it very simply. She said “Everyone is special in their own way”. And she went on to explain that although there were things that made her special, if she weren’t our granddaughter, we would have another granddaughter who would have been special in her own way. I love the thinking. I love the simplicity. And more than anything, I love her. I could go on to analyze her answer. But that would ruin it. It reminded me of an American Literature class when I was in college. I was writing a paper on Little Women, one of my favorite books. I reached a point where I had nothing more to say, so I ended by saying “To over analyze it would be to kill it.” My professor loved that. And there are times when that position is just right. Our moment with Avery was one of those time. So, my sweetie may have a complex inner life, but the outer manifestation can be just simple beauty.

WHAT MAY SEEM LIKE A COMPLEX OUTLOOK ON LIFE MAY BE SIMPLER THAN IT LOOKS. JUST TAKE IT FOR WHAT IT IS, ENJOY IT AND LIVE IT.

AND THE BOTTOM LINE IS THAT LISTENING TO AND LOVING THOSE WHO MEAN THE MOST TO US BRINGS THE GREATEST JOY.