A Little Bit Bad ... and a Lot Good

I received a lot of mail following my last article “A Little Bit Bad”

So it is only right that I now share the sequel.

Here it is:

As life will have it, the day after the article came out, my son Marco called me and asked if I would please go with him to Whistle Lake, the next afternoon.

He told me that he had finally jumped from the 60 ft cliff into the water and that he really wanted me to see him do it.

He told me that all I would have to do was hike about a mile in and then swim for 10 ft feet so I could get to the place from which he was going to jump.

That was quite a scary program and I was trying to think fast of reasons why I could not make it.

You see, I am not crazy about the idea of my kid jumping into a lake from a 60 ft cliff.

And I not at all crazy about the idea of swimming in a lake.

Let me re-phrase this: I am panicked at the idea of swimming in a lake.

P.A.N.I.C.K.E.D

No good reason, I know. But for me, between the monster eels, the dark water and the-little-people-whom-I-just-know-live-under-the-water-and-are-dying-to-pull-me-under-with-them, I am panicked.

So I said yes.

I said yes really fast and the next day when Marco bounded into the house after school, I was ready to go.

Well, I looked ready to go, anyway.

So we went.

We hiked and that was great.

We got to the swimming place and that was not.

First of all, it appears that Marco’s idea of 10 ft is very, very different from my idea of 10 ft. From most people’s actually.

I stood there, looking at about 100 ft of (to me) very dangerous looking water.

I stood there and I knew that the only way to get to where I would see him jump was, well, for ME to jump.

I stood there and I knew that I could not do it.

I stood there and I knew that I had to.

I had to, if I wanted to accept the gift that I was being given. If I wanted to get to the other side of “A Little Bit Bad.” 

So I did.

I went in and I swam across.

It was scary and fear never left. But panic never came either. And pleasure managed to swim with me alongside fear. I got to experience both.

I had wanted to enjoy swimming in a lake for many years. It is no fun to want to want something you are scared of.

And I was doing it.

A little while later I got to see Marco fly down from the crazy-high cliff and when he seemed shocked - and a little disappointed - that I had not been more scared to watch him leap, I knew that I had had just faced an even bigger (and quieter) fear.

And this, I think, is what happens “on the other side.”

On the other side of missing our babies lives the opportunity to meet our grown kids in new places. The opportunity to let them guide us (when we are lucky enough to be invited) into their world.

And it turns out that sometimes, in that world, is where we find ourselves too.

And that, for sure, is A Lot of Good.