It doesn’t make any sense, but it happens. Or it happened. When Oliver was born, I loved him right away. And, despite what some greeting cards will tell you, my love for him hasn’t grown in almost three years of life. I loved him fully and completely from the start. But something happened about a month ago that I can’t stop thinking about, so I thought I’d share a story with you.
I picked Oliver up from school and we went to the park. Pease Park is in the middle of Austin, and has a huge footprint, with two play areas, basketball courts, a running trail, and wide, grassy areas for running and falling. It’s a great park. The first thing that I notice when I get Oliver out of the car at Pease is that he immediately starts planning his attack. Making decisions about where to start, what’s new, or what can he try this time that he was too small or too timid to try last time. It’s one of my favorite things to see, Oliver’s furrowed brow as he scans the park, thinking hard about his decision.
This particular day, Oliver scanned quickly, and his eyes widened. There was a group of four kids playing in an open area. They had an oversized, plush Frisbee that they took turns flinging and chasing. It was obvious what O’s choice was, so he started inching towards this motley crew of children. I always let him walk in front of me, and he’s usually happy to do so, but this time he held back. He grabbed my leg, walked to the left, then walked to the right, getting closer to his target, but slowly. I let him go at his own speed, but I could feel that he was being shy. That’s ok. After a few more moments of posturing, he turned to me,
“Daddy, I want to play with them.”
“Go for it,” I said.
“Help me,” he pleaded.
I said, “No. If you want to play, then you have to go over, introduce yourself, and ask if you can hang out with them.”
“Daddy, please….” Pathetic, soft voice.
“No.” I stood my ground, but was about to cave, when…
Oliver looked at me, looked at the kids, and did the math in his head. I saw it like a light being turned on. He made his decision. His chest puffed out, his head pointed forward, and he stomped over to the group of children. If you’ve ever watched Oliver walk with a purpose, you know it’s not a delicate thing. He pounds the ground with his feet, punishing the earth for being in his way. He swings his arms in a tight, powerful circle that has intention all over it. He didn’t look back once. When he got to the kids, he introduced himself and asked if he could have a turn. A little redhead named Liam handed Oliver the Frisbee, and Oliver, ecstatic, threw it with all his strength. The plush projectile smacked Liam right between the eyes.
What I like about this story is that I gave Oliver advice to do something I would never be able to do myself. I see people I want to meet every day, but I don’t go talk to them. I play the coward, and I go on without ever giving myself the chance to meet some really nice folks. Oliver was brave, and his bravery was rewarded.
Like I mentioned before, I’ve loved Oliver completely from the moment I met him, but until this moment in the park, when he puffed out his chest and acted boldly and without fear, I never realized how much I respect him as a person. He jumps into life with passion in a way I’m going to try and emulate.
