Garrett
Present
Villanova, Pennsylvania
Age 27
“ARE YOU READY, LITTLE MAN?” I ask Kai as I grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator.
“Da-da,” he says and claps his hands. It makes me so happy that he says ‘Da-da.’ The other words he has in his repertoire are ‘ball’ and ‘bye.’ I remove him from his high chair, and crumbs fall from his lap into the seat. He’s a mess, but he doesn’t seem to care.
I carry him out the back door, down to the pool house. I’ve been trying to come out here at least every other day to swim. To relax me. To connect with her.
I place Kai in his stationary walker and make sure he has plenty of toys within reach. Now that he’s walking and is so mobile, he doesn’t enjoy playing in this as much as he used to. Peggy mentioned that I might want to set up a play yard in here, and I have yet to figure out exactly what that even is.
He’s happy for now, so I take advantage and dive into the pool. Kai plays and watches me as I swim my laps. He screeches every time I get close to him, and I make sure I kick a little harder so he gets splashed. His giggles echo throughout the large room, and they fuel my vigorous swim. He gets quiet after a while, and I notice he’s watching the large-screen television intently. Disney Junior projects through the room and just like that he’s in a television coma. Peggy insists that I limit his television watching to only an hour or less a day. Max never lets him watch television, so I don’t see the harm in it. The “Miles From Tomorrowland” song fills the room as I finish my last lap.
I’m breathing heavily as I roll onto my back and allow the pool to swallow me whole. I learned so much from Sam from the time that she spent with us, but the one thing I’ve truly come to appreciate is the art of relaxation. Floating like this slows down time for me. It allows me to reflect on things that are happening and plan for things that are coming. It clears my mind and gives me strength to live. Only my mouth and nose are outside the water, and I let the pool take me. Kai’s giggles bounce around the room as he continues to watch TV.
I close my eyes and think about how far we’ve come. A year ago, I never would have thought I’d be home with a child. An incredible one at that. The love that fills my heart is amazing, and he’s taught me so much about myself. I picture my birth father’s face, drawn and sad. For the first time, I feel sorry for him. He missed out on so many years with me and my mom. He couldn’t escape his demons and ended it all. He also stole the lives and future of two wonderful people. Two people who should be here today, witnessing the miracle of their daughter and the woman that she’s become. My father took away his own memories and chance at a future with my son, his grandson. So, yes, I pity him. I no longer hate him, because it’s not worth exhausting that kind of energy on anyone. But I pity him and the sad life that his eventually became.
I see my parents’ faces, and Bill’s warm smile erases my father’s drawn face. Bill is the type of father that I strive to be, and every day I try to be the man that he is. I hope that Kai sees this someday and appreciates me the way I appreciate Bill.
A loud clap and a screech pull me out of my meditative state. Kai’s saucer is floating in the shallow end of the pool, and my heart leaps out of my chest. He’s clapping and laughing as he floats in the water, and I reach him before it’s able to sink further. “Da-da!”
How did that happen? Holy shit!
I scoop him and his walker out of the pool and take him out of the seat, his diaper hanging low, filled with water. He’s still laughing, and I thank God this incident wasn’t worse. The play yard suddenly seems like a great idea, and I toss the stationary saucer toward the door. I need to get rid of it immediately.
After we dry off and I change his soaked diaper, I carry Kai back to the main house. I’m still shaken from what just happened. I place him on the floor after I’ve ensured that all of the gates have been locked throughout the downstairs. We have an entire baby gate system on the first and second floors. If the unlikely event occurs and Kai’s able to breech one gate, there’s always a backup that has a different locking mechanism. It’s ironic that the inside of the house is so secure, yet a major catastrophe almost occurred outside in the pool house. I vow to make sure that never happens again, and I jot down a note on the pad that I share with Peggy and Max.
Play Yard
Pool Safety Class
Swim Instructions?
Peggy and Max are going to be full of questions, and I decide that I’m not going to tell them what happened today. The crisis was averted and that’s what matters. I will never put Kai in harm’s way again. I drop the pen next to the pad and look for my phone.
Kai is playing on the floor with some plastic cups and containers, banging them together and laughing. I sit down next to him as I swipe through my phone, reading messages from Dax. We have a busy couple of weeks ahead of us as we plan for the beginning of our upcoming tour. The management company has been easy on us and instead of scheduling one long road trip, they planned the tour in manageable trips. We’ll spend less time on a bus and more time in the air as we’re flown in and out of various venues and then back home again. This is going to work for me, but my heart sinks knowing there will be several days a month when I’m not home with Kai.
I lock the phone on the home screen and see the wallpaper picture. It’s Kai and Sam. It’s the same picture that I had enlarged and hung on his bedroom wall. He’s about to kiss her, and her smile is huge. It’s my favorite picture of the two of them, and it sums up the happiness and joy that she brought into our home.
“Ma-ma,” Kai says next to me, and I’m startled. He’s pointing to my phone and sees the picture of him and Sam.
“What did you say, little dude?” I ask him.
“Ma-ma.” He tries to grab the phone and I give it to him.
“Ma-ma. Ma-ma. Ma-ma.” He continues to say this as his pudgy finger presses into the screen on Sam’s face.
Tears fill my eyes as I witness the joy and irony of the situation. I can’t imagine where he would have learned that word because I’ve never referred to Sam as ‘mama.’ Yes, she was like a mother to Kai for so many months, but that word has never left my mouth.
I realize a sobering truth.
Sam is the only mother Kai has ever known.