Triggers

Every so often there's some sort of minor trigger that opens up a wellspring of emotion. Heather probably has a lot more than me, but I'll just name two that came yesterday.


• “We’re going to the nursery.” – I got our garden all prepared last Saturday for Heather. We were going to plant some stuff once she recovered from the delivery. Since we’re crappy gardeners, we were just going to cheat and get those pre-flowering vegetables, instead of using seed. So yesterday, our family decided they would go buy those at Seven Oaks Garden Center. Then, someone said, “We’re going to the nursery.”

Well, that starts a thought cycle of: yeah, Maelee’s nursery looks so awesome and she was going to love it. She’d love to be in her room. It’s where she’d fall asleep every night. I also thought about how I was looking forward to bringing her to the nursery at church. We’d check her in, or whatever parents do, and she would get one of those little name-badge stickers on her back so when she escapes from the nursery to try to find her daddy people will know whose wild kid is running around.


• “Yeah, books on tape, something, something, blah, blah …” – Somehow we started talking about books on tape. Then I thought about how I was so looking forward to taking a long car ride with Heather and Maelee. We’d drive the Blue Ridge Parkway on a Saturday afternoon. We’d turn on the tunes and she’d sleep in the backseat. Then she’d get antsy so we’d turn off at some random place and let her just run crazy till she gets tired again. Or, we’d drive down to the beach on a warm Saturday morning when she’s one and a half. We’d listen to a Matt Chandler sermon or Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me. Then, she’d see the ocean for the first time. She’d let the sand go in between her toes for the first time. She’d squeal with delight. She’d run up to the water and get scared and run to me because it’s chasing after her.