Brad Scott’s youngest child just started kindergarten. This rite of passage was not an easy one for him. Here is the reason why.
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There was a time when I didn’t think I’d have a second child. My wife and I had our first child, Jack, less than two years after we were married. We of course were thrilled, and because we wanted at least two kids who were close in age, we started trying again just a few months after Jack was born. But, as is often the case in life, things didn’t go as we planned. Six and a half years and a couple (at least) of miscarriages later, I had resigned myself to the fact that Jack would be an only child. We were fortunate to have him, and to be honest, I wasn’t sure I wanted another child any longer. I was in the latter half of my 30s and my wife was on the doorstep of 40. I didn’t want to put her at risk of a dangerous pregnancy or another devastating letdown. We both began to accept our fate. When we were told about a specialist that might be able to help, we debated a bit, but agreed that we would give it one last try. I’m so glad we did. In 2010 my wife gave birth to a healthy baby girl we named Ainsley. She completed our family, and made us who we are today. I can’t imagine life without her. She is beautiful, smart, funny and kind. What more could a dad ask for?
Six months ago I had a midlife opportunity (it may have seemed to some to be a crisis), and I left my job of almost 20 years to become a stay-at-home dad. I was on a quest to find happiness, and spending each day with my daughter has truly helped me find it. Happiness doesn’t mean every day is wonderful. Instead it’s about learning to enjoy the moments that matter; to relish and remember them. After all, it’s individual moments that make up our forevers. If we slow down and pay attention, we will find that these moments are not few and far between, but are actually all around us, just waiting to be experienced. Those more enlightened than me refer to this as being mindful. I have found that being mindful is quite easy, as long as I remind myself…
When Ainsley was a baby and would cry in the night, I would usually offer to take her, allowing my wife to sleep. I would go downstairs to our couch and lay her on my chest, where she would almost always settle down very quickly. In the dark stillness, I would listen to and feel her deep, calming breaths as we both fell asleep. I offered to help not only for my wife, but also for me. It felt so good to hold her. At that moment nothing else mattered. This is how I have felt the last six months – nothing else mattered. Nothing else could compare.
A few weeks ago, Ainsley started kindergarten. She was so excited and so ready but, selfishly, I wasn’t prepared to let her go. Everybody talks about time moving so fast, and man, it really does. I would love to be woken up just one more time to find a crying baby needing to be nestled on my chest. Instead, my daughter woke me up on the first morning of school. My wife and I walked her to school for the first time, new backpack and lunchbox in tow. I reminded myself to pay close attention to her expressions and actions as we entered her classroom. After only a few minutes, the bell rang, and we were forced to leave her to start a new adventure of her own. As we left, I stole one last peek through the doorway. Ainsley seemed fine, yet I was fighting back tears. I don’t mean to be overly sappy, as I realize she was only starting kindergarten, but it is another step in what is a long staircase of simultaneously exciting and depressing (at least to me) events in our children’s lives. I admit there is a part of me that doesn’t want my kids to grow up.
I am very fortunate to get to walk Ainsley to school each day. I no longer go into school with her, but leave her just outside the front door. Each day she gives me a kiss and a hug, then confidently walks in the door and down the hall towards her classroom. Although it has been a several weeks, I still occasionally fight back tears, both of sadness and pride. I miss her during the day, and am excited each afternoon when she comes out the doors and runs into my arms. Remembering to be mindful, I will not take these moments for granted.
Time waits for no one, but I will be grateful for all the time I have with my daughter, who almost never was.
Photo: Flickr/John Perrson