We Made It!

“I made it!” That’s what she said. Tromping up my steps, trying to make her toddler’s legs take grown-up strides. Her parents, still emerging from the car, seem to be towed in her wake. Her father, my son, I’m sure doesn’t want me encouraging this rebelliousness but it is such a joy. No doubt she pestered them to death to get here. How can I help but welcome this imp with open arms and with all my heart?

I imagine she’ll be goin’ across the road in a bit to find her Pup-pup with that same damn determination. It will do her good. It will do him good. He’ll likely close that back door to the garage when he hears her comin’. What a force that child is!

Not like her dad. He had a different way of coping with the secrets in that garage. He dodged. He avoided. He can’t stand contention to this day. He suppresses any question, any discussion. “Don’t stir up trouble!” he says. “Don’t make waves!” “Don’t argue with me!” Can’t really blame him.

But this child, she pushes back. Suppressin’ her here just makes her pop up there. For my money, it’s the better way to go. I’m with you, child. We made it!