And then... There was Abram.

This is a cross post from The MJB Foundation Blog.

In the literal sense the drive from Galloway to Westerville only takes about 40 - 45 minutes.

Figuratively, however it took a bit longer.

Finally though, in early October 2011 my wife and I found ourselves en route carrying an MJB Donation.

A gift for a boy named Abram who simply needed a way to get out and play with his sisters, a way for Mom and Dad to get him outside. Abram’s “Get out and play" deck as we call it now.

We had heard about Abram a few months before. His family was having a fundraiser to build the deck, they had a goal number in mind, but came the query - Could The MJB Foundation help?

Of course we would - folks who were industrious enough to hold their own fundraiser? Heck, we were right on board. We would help with the difference. They would raise what they raised, and The MJB Foundation would make up the difference.

So we carried that check with us as we traveled to Westerville.

But here’s the catch - This was the first MJB Gift of Joy we were delivering personally. No agency involved. No intermediary. Just us... and honestly - we were a little nervous.

We were greeted at the door by some lovely young ladies and welcomed in to meet Abram and his family

What followed quite frankly was life changing, and as far as that goes - MJB changing too.

When you lose a child, as we did with Meghan Joy, the feelings, the emotion, the carousel, the roller coaster are all things you do alone. Oh, you have your spouse, and you are together. If you’re lucky, like we were, you have that support, that someone to lean on.

But nobody can understand what it is truly like. Not your friends, not your family, nobody who hasn’t gone through that experience themselves can truly understand what it’s like.

But, Emma and Andy, Abram’s parents, had done just that. Abram’s twin brother Heath passed away when he was 3 weeks and two days old.

Emma and Andy knew exactly who we were, and they made us feel so welcome. We spent about an hour and a half chatting, sharing stories, talking about Heath and Abram, and Meghan and Kailey and Delaney and Livvy, Ella, Mollie and Poppy and on and on, and we gave them the check and went on our way.

Afterwards, we visited the local mall to run some errands.

As we shopped we talked about our visit and marveled at the ease with which Emma carried on a conversation, cared for Abram, and still managed to keep track of what the girls were all doing.

We could not imagine keeping up with that pace. We could not imagine the energy that must take.

We discussed the similarities and differences we shared, and we decided that we were incredibly happy we were able to help, and more importantly that we had made that donation personally.

We kept in contact with Emma and Andy and their clan, with the goings on with Abram and his deck. We invited them to Bowl for Joy and Emma came with the kids and had a terrific time.

Afterward, Emma contacted me with some ideas for other ways The MJB Foundation could help folks, and other ways that she could be involved.

We had no idea...

The Speech

(This is what it sounds like in my head. Who knows how it's going to come out...)

They say that: “Everyone who has ever passed through the doors of Bishop Ready knows that for as long as they live they have a home here and they are always welcome back.

Today, I feel that, and I thank you. I want to also thank those who nominated me, and accepted me into this select group. I am humbled by this honor, and I hope that in my life I am able to continue to do the work that brought me here, that is my passion. I want to thank an incredibly supportive family, a whole team of people, hundreds of supporters, and all the folks who inspire me to do the work I do. They’re the ones who deserve the recognition.

I was very nervous about being here today. I asked my girls, who some of you know, what I could say that wouldn’t make me sound like “some old” guy.

They just laughed.

So, I asked another friend, and she told me to just talk about what I do.  

As I look out at all of you I remember myself in those very same seats. I was excited for the future, even if I had no idea what that future held.

It took me sometime to figure it all out, and that’s okay. All I really knew was that whatever I did, it probably shouldn’t involve math. More importantly, I wanted to do it as best as I possibly could.

I learned here at Ready that each and every one of us has the ability to have an impact on our environment, and most especially the people around us.

Just being a Dad, carrying on my daughter Meghan’s legacy through our work with The MJB Foundation, and being the best Dad I can be to my daughters Kailey and Delaney I’ve found my life’s work, and somehow that lead me here today.

At The MJB Foundation we strive everyday to make sure that children, all of the children can know the real Joy that should be childhood.

As my children have grown I have stressed to them, and to their friends and other youth I have worked with, the importance of finding a way to enjoy their childhood.

That’s what life should be all about - Joy - and that is my wish for you today.

Thank you!

Taking Care of My Kids

Mr. Wright,

I'm going to begin by asking that you not send me the "canned response," and you not refer to what happened with your school's football team and the Westland High School Band as a mix-up.

This was not a mix-up. This was a blatant disregard for the rules. You know it, and I know it.

I still cannot believe that with more than 3 minutes left during halftime the Liberty football team actually  came onto the field while the band was still performing and refused to leave...even after their coach was asked by both the Westland band staff and the athletic director. (photo credit to Julie Prater)

In fact your coaching staff essentially told our band directors as well as parents in the press box, who were counting raffle money, that they didn't care that they were breaking the rules.

Did they also not care that children's safety was in danger? Two band members were kicked. That's two too many.

One wonders what your reaction might have been if your football players had pushed the wrong tuba player to the brink? That's a pretty heavy instrument.

Do you comprehend where this could go wrong on so many levels?

I learned afterward that the Liberty football team has a reputation of doing this repeatedly. REPEATEDLY? even to your own band at times.

That is wrong! An immediate, and unequivocal apology should be issued by every coach, and every administrator in your building to every band it has shown this type of disrespect.

I have friends whose children attend Olentangy Liberty. Their kids are good kids. I am confident that the kids on the football team are probably good kids just doing what they were told.

I am not, however as confident in the goodness of your coaching staff, or frankly in you sir with the copied and pasted response referencing a "mix-up."I have seen you give to many, MANY concerned parents.

It's a sad day when the adults are the ones who need to learn the lesson.

Please do the right thing here and apologize, and have your coaching staff apologize with assurance that this will not happen in the future. Don't apologize to me. Apologize to the Westland Band, every single member and director.

It is my understanding that several media outlets have been copied on many of these emails. One can only hope that at the very least the threat of bad publicity will compel you to do what is right.

Sincerely,

Jim Brochowski
Westland Band Booster Treasurer

The Hall of Fame? Really?

Dear Ms. Kelly,

I have to confess that I spent a considerable amount of time trying to write "my story," as it pertains to my Bishop Ready High School Hall of Fame nomination. Like many, I have a difficult time with this type of notoriety as I just consider what I do…well, what I do. With that said, what follows is just a summary, rather than some dressed-up version. I don't know how to do that.

I have 3 daughters. That’s not what I say when folks ask because it’s awkward and uncomfortable for them sometimes. Running The MJB Foundation is my way of keeping alive the legacy of my daughter Meghan Joy. This isn’t the life’s work I would have guessed for myself, but it is a mission I embrace, a position I am proud to hold. I’m Meghan Joy’s Daddy, but I’m also very proud of Kailey and Delaney. Being there for all of my children, in whatever capacity, is my biggest priority.

Coming out of Bishop Ready I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life except that it would be better if it didn't involve math. Naturally then, I became a theatre major at The Ohio State University. I thought that was it, the career for me. I even came back and directed a couple of plays at Ready. At the end of the academic year I realized that I wasn't ready for college in the traditional sense. I auditioned and was accepted to the American Musical and Dramatic Academy in New York, but having spent more than $600 in less than 2 days there, and not having received a scholarship I decided instead to continue to work at the library, a job I'd had since my senior year of high school. 

In 1988, I met the woman who would later become my wife. I still didn't know what I wanted to be when I grew up, but I knew that I wanted to be the best husband and father I could possibly be. I think childhood and adolescence is absolutely the hardest thing any of us will have to deal with in our lives (save for extraordinary circumstances), and I knew I wanted to make it as easy as I possibly could for my children.

In 1993, our twin daughters Kailey and Meghan Joy were born. We were not expecting twins, and there were many complications. The whole story is here. 
http://www.mjbfoundation.org/about-the-mjb-foundation/the-story-of-meghan-joy/

In May of 1994, we were devastated by the death of Meghan Joy. In an attempt to find some peace, some reason, my wife and I began to reach out to friends and family who told us that Meghan had inspired them, that she had a profound effect on their lives and many others. To continue her memory and preserve her legacy we started holding a golf tournament every year as we, and many of our friends, were avid golfers. Each year for 9 years we had the golf outing and a big party dubbed "The MJB" to celebrate Meghan's life. We settled into a pattern, and daughter Delaney joined us in 1996.

In 2004, our 10th year, we wanted to do something big. In talking to a friend I realized that we could do more with the story of Meghan, that we should use her inspiration to help other children. Children who, like Meghan faced more than their fair share of challenges. Cerebral palsy, autism and a whole host of other diagnoses affect the daily lives of so many children, and the resources for helping them are few and far between. So began The MJB Foundation.

We held our first Golf for Joy, the 10th annual family golf tournament and party remembering Meghan's inspiration in June of 2004. We raised a little over $1,800. We gained our 501(c) 3 status in 2005. We never looked back. In 2010 we added a bowling event and, to date, we have raised more than $40,000 for children with challenges in Central Ohio. From our Mission Statement: By sponsoring recreational and educational activities, donating physical goods and services, and making monetary contributions we hope to bring Joy to these children. 

When we started The MJB Foundation it was easy to identify a need that wasn’t being met. Simply put, some children just don’t have access, or enough access, as the case may be. When Meghan was born in 1993 we had excellent insurance, everything was paid for. If we needed equipment or some adaptive device for Meghan, no matter the cost, it was covered. In 2004 this type of insurance for anyone was nothing more than a faded memory, and the situation has not improved today. 

Even the children with the most challenges are often left at the bottom of some bureaucratic list with not enough funding to obtain the resources they need to just be kids, to experience the Joy that should be childhood. 

The MJB Foundation wants to be there to fill those gaps, to find those children who aren’t experiencing that Joy and help them with the resources they need. Whether that is an adaptive tricycle, some kind of therapy, a special tray or just an adaptive piece of furniture; we work with organizations like FCBDD to identify children in need, provide the needed funding and send them a gift of Joy from The MJB Foundation. 

Our next event is coming up in November as we are presenting Ohio Idols for Independence – Helping Kids with Cerebral Palsy Find Their Voice in conjunction with Ohio Idol, and CP Parent Columbus, a Family Resource Group for Cerebral Palsy. Attendance is expected to exceed 1,500 and the event should raise more than any other we have held to date. 

So does that make me a Hall of Fame inductee? I don't know. Even when I eventually graduated from college in 2001 I wasn't sure what I wanted to be when I grow up, but I have found that I really like to work with kids, and I really like to work with non-profits, particularly organizations that benefit folks who get missed. My community is very important to me... with a lot of emphasis on family. I’m also currently the treasurer for the Westland Band Boosters. (I had some spare time I needed to fill.)

I told my girls that they didn't come with an instruction manual and that we were going to figure out the best way to do things together. As my children have grown I have stressed to them, and to their friends and other youth I have worked with, the importance of finding a way to enjoy their childhood. 

I coached my girls’ sports teams when they played, and I have been fortunate to be a "second Dad" to many of their friends. I still have kids today whose eyes light up as they greet me with an embrace. Many of them call me "Poppa Chow." That's enough of a reward for me.

Happy Birthday To You!

“Um, Daddy I need you to sit in the backseat in the middle. Please.”

I knew K was up to something, but I wasn’t sure what. She had asked to talk to her Mommy on Friday and told me to turn off the speaker phone. I asked her if it was some girly thing or other and she said yes. When I asked Netter about it later, because we usually tell each other everything, she told me K wanted to surprise me with something and to just let it go. So I did.

Now it was Sunday, we were walking out of Kohl’s and K was asking me to sit in the middle of the backseat. I had no idea why, but because it was also her birthday, and we were only getting to spend a brief window of time, part of which was shopping for her gift, none of which was any time at home with her busy 19-year old self; you know, the college life,  I complied.

“Okay, close your eyes.”

“What? Why?”

“Please?!”

So I did.

“Okay, open ‘em.”

I couldn’t believe what I was looking at and the tears just started to flow. Try as I might, I couldn’t turn them off. Even now as I type this my eyes are welling up. It was just that cool.

During her clandestine conversation with her Mommy on Friday, K had asked Netter to bring along our copy of The Birthday Book by Dr. Seuss.  (not an affiliate link, I just like Amazon and think you should buy a copy for you & your family.)
 
We have been reading this book every year on the girls’ birthdays since the day they were born. It was a book I had from my childhood that I really liked, but my copy was old and beat up and had a couple of nicks and marks that kept me from wanting to save it so Netter bought our family a new copy and inscribed it with a Dr. Seuss inspired poem for the first Christmas after the twins were born. When D was born, Netter added a new verse to the poem for her as well. Netter also added the handprints of each of the girls to the inside cover.

This is a very special book in our family, but I am disappointed to admit in the business that was Sunday and with all the hectic happenings at our house lately as we work on replacing a damaged vehicle (another post for another day), the book had somehow slipped my mind.

As my children have grown I’ve tried to build traditions that are uniquely our own. Oh, I’ve included what little I remember from my childhood, but without going into a lot of detail, well, there’s just not much there tradition-wise. One or two things, but nothing unique, nothing remarkable really. I’m not complaining. As they say, it just is what it is.

Still, I wanted more for my girls.

So there I was reading The Birthday Book to my girls in the backseat of a hot cramped car on a Sunday afternoon in February. I worked through the tears. I read with the clearest voice I could muster. I tried to do all of the accents and the rhythms and everything the book has evolved into for us over the course of 19 years...

I felt like the luckiest Daddy ever, and I enjoyed every single minute of it.

I wish we could do what they do in Katroo.

Whether your name is Nate, Delaney or Ned or Pete, Kailey or Paul...

LOOK!

As I’ve told her many times - That was very cool K. Thank you!

Feeling very fortunate to have such a gift on “your” birthday.

But then I always feel fortunate and privileged to have 2 such wonderful girls and to be their Daddy.

I love you both very much!

I am I!
And I may not know why
But I know that I like it.

Three cheers!  I AM I!

I Hope You Have One Just Like You...

I really like my kids.

I say that because I’ve been having this debate with my sister about “the one your parents wished on you.”

I’m sure, everyone has experienced first hand or heard the stories about parents who said something like: “I hope you have a child just like you when you grow up. Then you’ll know what I have to deal with...”

Blah, blah, blah... (Sorry Mom.)

My Mom said it to me, and there were a couple times when my girls were young that I thought - “Oh, this one is the one my Mom wished on me, or No, maybe it’s this one.”

When I really sit down and think about it though... It’s neither one of them.

My girls are both really good kids. They are their own unique selves. They are both very well behaved. They both make good choices. They both have great friends and peer groups.

When I think about myself as a kid, I honestly have a very difficult time finding anything about them that is “just like me.”

My sister posits that perhaps I’ve escaped the curse of “the one just like me.”

I have a different theory In fact, I have a secret.

You know I’m going to share it with you. Ready?

I have gone out of my way to make sure my kids are not like me.

It’s no secret that I think being a kid, being a teenager, heck growing up in general is one of the hardest thing that any of us has to do.

So I’ve tried to make it easier for my kids.

Oh they don’t lack for discipline. In fact, if you ask both girls they will tell you that there have been times in their lives when they were just flat out afraid of what I might do when they got in trouble. I’m not sure why. I think I’d have to try hard to find five spankings between them and I don’t know that either of them has ever been grounded or lost a privilege for longer that it took me to explain to them why they might lose that privilege. Still they have both told me there were times when they were afraid.

That’s good. Fear works for parenting.

But you can’t have fear alone.

You have to have trust, and most of all you have to have honesty. You also have to know when to give, pick and choose your battles as they say. Finally, sometimes you just have to let it go.
So what does that all mean?

I’ve told my kids from day one that when they were born they did not come with an instruction manual. No book came flying out of their mother that told me “how to raise them,” and sometimes I was, well I was just going to screw it up.

It’s inevitable. No parent gets everything right all of the time. But I also told my kids that I would be the first one to tell them I was wrong and I would do everything I could to fix things to make them right.

I only asked one thing in return.

Be honest with me. Don’t hold back information. Don’t twist the facts. Just tell me like it is, and we’ll figure it out.

… and we have.

Now my girls aren’t perfect. They’ve pulled their fair share of stunts. They’ve caused trouble. They’ve taken me to points where I wanted to pull my hair out.

But we’ve always made it right, and sometimes we just let it go.

What? Let it go?

Sure, why not?

I’m sure every parent reaches a point with their children where they just have no idea why? What thought process could possibly be behind that child’s decision? How on earth? What the... (Hey buddy, this is a family blog.)

But you just want an answer?

Why?

I’ll give you an example. Right now, my youngest daughter has taken to spending entire weekends at friend’s houses, and sometimes those friends spend entire weekends at our house.

I mean like literally, they pretty much live there weekends. I don’t get it. Don’t they want to go home at some point? Don’t they need to have their space, their stuff?

Baffles me.

But then I think: “Wait a minute, I have friends I’d like to spend the whole weekend with too. In fact, except for the fact that we don’t have sleepovers sometimes we do spend the whole weekend with the same friends.”

So what’s the big deal?

Of course there is no big deal. There’s not really an issue at all. So why get all worked up about it? Why not just let it go? Let.It.Go. Just let your kids be kids. They are not hurting anything, and heck sometimes when they stay at our house they make me cookies. So you know... Score!

It seems to me that sometimes so much of parenting is just a series of arbitrary decisions, choices we make for no other reason than “because they are there.”

I don’t get that.

Who knows, maybe I’m lucky. Maybe I did escape the curse.

Or maybe I made a choice.

I think every parent who wants to can make the same choice, and I wish them all the best of luck.

I love you K and D. Thanks for being good kids.

I Suck At Fall

If I had to pick a season to call my favorite it would be Fall. The start of hockey season comes in the Fall. I love college football - Fall. My favorite beer is only available in the Fall. Unless you stock up which I may or may not be guilty of doing. Once. Last year. Because it was the first time it occurred to me. Yes, I probably will, might do it again this year.

But I digress... Sorry.

My birthday is in the Fall. My wife’s birthday is too. Halloween is my favorite holiday. Okay, I don’t really like holidays in general, but if I had to pick I pick Halloween. Hard to hate on free candy right?

Oh, and I really like the word “Autumn.”

But still, I suck at Fall. I get really sad. I get grouchy. I just want to sleep all the time. (Yes, even more than usual Dave.) I hole up in my office and stare blankly at my computer screen for hours on end. If you ask me, I don’t even remember what I was staring at...

… and I don’t know why. I don’t remember Fall always being like this, or maybe it was. As a young person I didn’t like Fall because I was not a fan of school, but that’s normal right. (Hey, I used normal in reference to myself. That doesn’t happen very often. Let me have this one.)

Still, as I got older, and especially after I met Netter I learned to really appreciate the beauty of Fall, the changes in the leaves, (even when Netter was pregnant and I had to rake them), the colors, the smells, the way the sun sets differently, the crisp autumn air. I love it all.

But then there’s that drag. Even as I write this my head feels heavy and my eyelids are drooping. I could be asleep in minutes.

This fall I’ve been working very hard to stay on task, to get things done, to make progress on my 3 words. I’ve been successful sometimes and sometimes I catch myself - just - staring - into - space.

Netter thinks I have seasonal affective disorder. I suppose that could be true, but I have always had the mindset that if you’re not bleeding or dying you play the game. And so I go on...

I try to stay on track, and focus. The girls are busy now. K just went off to college. D is caught up in band. Plenty to watch and see and listen to. Netter and I have been going on regular walks, exploring our neighborhood parks and trails. We take Mulligan along when we can.

We get really busy in the Fall.

I love Fall!

So why do I suck at it so much?

What do you think?

Knucklehead

An open letter to all the young men who were, are, might, or may decide to date my daughters...

Dear Knucklehead,

A friend once told me that there was a reason God gave daughters to guys like me. I’d like to share it with you.

Ready?

I know you because I was you. There isn’t a thought or a scheme or a dare that you have had that I didn’t when I was your age.

Consequently my young friend(s) I know best how to protect my daughters because I know what to look for, and more importantly I know how, and where to find... I'll just say solutions.

Just so we understand each other,

Stop.Smiling.

Mr. B.

Pray

We heard the sirens during the band booster meeting we were attending. We went to bed fairly certain that once again kids in our community were facing tragedy. We woke this morning to find that was indeed the case, to learn their names, and to know a man had lost his life in the accident.

Netter and the girls usually leave about an  hour before I do in the mornings. They always come in and kiss me goodbye. We tell each other “love you, have a good day, see you later,” and such and then I fall back to sleep grateful I still have that hour or so.

Today that didn’t happen. I could tell as Netter leaned down to kiss me that something was amiss, something was different. So, I asked  her.

“Nothing,” she said: “Well not nothing um, the kids that were in the accident. Well, we know who it was.”

I sat up a little and asked who and she told me their names. I didn’t know any of them personally. One of their parents were friends of friends. I’d done some computer work for them. Dad had played in Golf for Joy one year. Mom and I are Facebook friends. Acquaintances. Still, I could feel it in my gut.

Netter assured me she had talked with the girls and they were okay. We said goodbye with extra emphasis on the “see you later,” (because I believe that makes it so) and I lay back down in bed.

I didn’t fall back asleep this time though. I got up to call Mulligan to help comfort me, and darned if that dog wasn’t standing outside the door waiting for me to let him in. His sensitivity still amazes me. I’ve no idea how he does it.

Mulligan and I laid in bed snuggling, and I dozed a bit, but mostly I just thought of those boys and the accident, of the multitude of things I have done behind the wheel of a car in my lifetime that could have landed me in  jail, or the hospital, or yes, even the morgue, and how many times presently that  I am afraid of driving, afraid I’ve used up all my chances.

I thought about K, who is in the process of taking driving lessons, but not very eager to finish her in car session, and how I might be okay with that... Now.

I thought about D who declared recently that she never wanted to drive and Netter who waited until she was 25 to get her license, and how that might not be such a bad idea for the girls.

Then I rolled over, picked up my phone and read a text I received from our friends of the friends telling me about the boy in the hospital, knowing I would want to know.

I got ready and came to work and went online to read the articles, and watch the slide show and the video about the accident, and unfortunately began reading the comments after those articles.

Apparently only a few of those folks were ever teenagers who ever did anything wrong, and didn’t understand that a car is essentially a 2 - 3 thousand pound missile just waiting to go off. I know I didn’t. I thought I was invincible. But the adults in the comments section have apparently always been sensible, and well mostly judgmental and yes, it pisses me off.

So I stopped reading those comments and checked on the status of our young friend who is still in the hospital and sat down to write, mostly because it helps me collect my thoughts and find calm.

There were mistakes made in judgment. There was at least one child who will have to live with the consequences of his actions for the rest of his life. There was the  tragic loss of a young father, only 31 and there was once again, the unfair, unexplainable, and seemingly random happening that makes us ask “why?”

Nobody really has any good answers. All we can do is make this a lesson, and remind ourselves that each second, each minute, each hour, every day, and every year is not to be taken for granted.

Throw up a prayer, look up, sideways, around, whatever you do to send good mojo and thoughts to the young men involved, to the family of the man whose life is gone, to all involved, and all affected...

That they may find peace. 

Hold My Hand Daddy

Quietly, and without a word she reached out her hand in support and I took it and held on tightly thankful for her knowledge.

Every year we go to the fair with Netter’s family. We have a route we follow, meeting at the Cardinal, onto Dinky Donuts, a stop in the grassy area near the Rhodes Center, then through the sheep barns, next to the pigs and the horses and the steers, onward to Fine Arts followed by lunch at ODNR. It’s all very scripted, but somehow new and fresh every year. A good time with family. We visit. We laugh. We have fun.

One year, I decided that I would take all of the kids on the Giant Slide. The 7 of them, and me. It was my thing. I bought the tickets. I called for the lineup. I took over at the top of the slide to make sure we all got to go at the same time. “Uncle Jim’s Slide” was an annual thing. Something I looked forward to very much. The kids all knew how much it meant to me and even as they were getting older they still humored me and went along for the ride. They got it.

Unfortunately, I don’t think their parents ever did. Each year, despite my insistence that it was my treat, my thing, Netter’s sisters and their husbands would insist on trying to pay for the tickets, and each year she would tell them “It’s Jim thing. You don’t have to pay. He wants to do this.”

And I did. I really, really did.

Last Saturday however, marked the end of an era for Uncle Jim’s slide ride and I found out just how much the slide had become part of the routine.

You may have heard me talk a bit about K’s involvement with the All Ohio State Fair Youth Choir. K loves the choir. We all love going to listen to her sing and visiting her as often as possible. But one of the things about visiting K is that we have to follow the Choir schedule and guidelines for being able to see her. This means among other things that we have to walk to the dorms to pick her up. It’s a very good idea actually. The Choir kids are not to be alone on the fairgrounds for safety reasons. Usually, this means a  little extra walking, but it’s a minor inconvenience and I can use the exercise. On the day that the family comes to the fair though it can throw a major wrench into the routine.

So on Saturday while Netter and I hustled to get K from the dorm after the 4:00 parade the family went to buy slide tickets and the kids went on the slide without us.

We arrived just as they were ascending the stairs. K and I really didn’t know what to do. “We didn’t know you were coming,” my mother-in-law said.

Sure enough later I would look at my phone and see that while we were running across the fairgrounds to get to the slide, my youngest, D was texting and calling and I just didn’t feel the vibrate.

Still, at that moment, I was in shock. I didn’t know what to do. My tradition, one of the things I most looked forward to at the fair had been taken away. Uncle Jim was very disappointed.

I spun around, and kicked the air. I think a blue word or two escaped my lips, but I tried to stay clear of the family because I didn’t want to argue. I knew that when rational thought took over I would see their reasoning and everything would, (eventually) be okay.

I asked Kailey if she wanted to ride the slide. She said, “No, well only if you do Daddy,” and I decided that I didn’t. She needed to eat something before her next concert and I had promised her some fair corn. I told her to tell her Grandma we were getting something to eat and asked them to wait for us to come back and we walked away.

A lump formed in my throat and tears welled up in my eyes. I thought to myself, Well there’s nothing special about the slide at the fair anymore. The kids were all growing up anyway. I’m sure it’s not big deal. But it was... And then it happened

My little girl reached out her hand to me. My little girl once more. Not a word was spoken, or glance exchanged, but the meaning was clear. K, oh wise K, knew that her Daddy needed her, that he needed to walk with his little girl.

Yeah, the lump in my throat got bigger, but that was okay.

Hand in hand we walked to the corn stand, and with a final kiss in the air we let go our hands and continued our day. We finished our corn, and K said goodbye to the family before I returned her to the dorms to line up for the next concert.

I talked to Netter about the slide a little bit. We both agreed that nobody meant any harm. They were just trying to follow the plan, the routine, and they obviously had no idea how much that meant to me.

It’s all good, as they say.

While I did lose something that day, just for that fleeting moment in time I had my little girl once again.

I’ll take the trade.