Lorne Jaffe realized that, despite his depression, it would be unacceptable for him not to be there for his daughter. So Frozen and popcorn it was.
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I hate and dread my birthday. Yes it’s just a day like any other, but it’s one that so clearly marks the passage of time, one that depression sufferers such as myself tend to use to focus more than ever on the “failures” of the past and of time “running out” than on the now. Normally I feel sad on my birthday, distraught that I don’t have the money, the elite job title, the house, and I obsess over my life’s crossroads. I especially feared this birthday, though, because not only was it my 40th, my wife had to work late into the night leaving me without my main emotional support. I expected to spiral into such narcissistic despair that I’d fail to be there for my daughter and that was unacceptable.
The morning of my birthday I decided to take my 22-month-old daughter, Sienna, to her first movie (Frozen). I knew if I didn’t get out of the apartment, I’d dwell until misery swallowed me.
My wife’s not a big Disney fan, so I saw Frozen alone when it first opened, but since that day Sienna and I have probably watched the ”Let It Go” clip on YouTube about a quadrillion times, so I thought seeing it on the big screen would blow her mind. Plus it was the sing-a-long version so I knew if my daughter yelled at the screen or ran around I’d at least be surrounded by similarly frazzled parents with their rambunctious children. In hindsight this was also a massive undertaking since I’m anxious any time I take Sienna outside, always imagining people talking about and judging me for being a stay-at-home dad, but on my birthday, a clear, crisp February morning, I bundled her up, strapped her into her car seat and told her it was adventure time.
♦◊♦
As we entered the multiplex Sienna looked around and took in everything, particularly the luminosity of the theater lobby, big white bulbs overhead, red blinking lights announcing theater times. “Lights!” she repeated on a loop. “Lights!”
“LEGO Movie?” a fiftyish man with a bushy red mustache asked when we reached the counter.
“Nope. Frozen,” I said. “Taking my daughter to her first movie.”
“Good choice.” He smiled and gestured towards Sienna who wore her most serious expression. “And in that case we have something special in store for this little cutie. Just head over to the concession stand and let me know she’s a first-timer.”
I did so and after many congratulations, we received a free children’s popcorn. We walked down the hallway and passed a huge cardboard advertisement for Muppets Most Wanted and Sienna quickly ran up and touched Animal’s face. She LOVES Animal, especially his solo during the Muppets’ rendition of “Bohemian Rhapsody.”
The theater was packed and by “packed” I mean crammed with empty seats. Seems 10:25 AM on a Monday is a perfect time to take your kids to the movies, especially if a film’s been out seemingly forever. I chose an aisle seat behind a wheelchair area giving us plenty of legroom in case Sienna needed to run around. I had no idea what to expect from her. Would the movie’s volume scare her? Would she sit for more than 10 minutes? As I said: adventure time. I placed her in a seat and made sure I could access everything: popcorn, water, Cheerios, diaper bag.
The lights dimmed and we sat through ads and previews (“GREEN!” Sienna yelled happily whenever a preview card appeared) and then it was magic time. First a clever, Oscar-nominated Mickey Mouse short in which Mickey, Minnie and the gang break through the screen and into a CGI, 3D world. “MICKEY MOUSE! MICKEY MOUSE!” Sienna announced, pointing at the screen. I told her it was indeed Mickey and ran my fingers through her hair. Then the main feature began.
♦◊♦
I don’t know how she did it, but Sienna sat through nearly the entire movie as if she were a film critic. Or maybe she’s just like her mom who gets distracted and sucked in by any type of moving image, including commercials—she could be talking to you while walking into a room, but upon noticing the flickering TV, she’s an instant zombie and you actually have to snap your fingers to get her attention. (Ok, maybe I’m exaggerating…you don’t always have to snap your fingers). Getting back to Sienna, she stood up once and nearly fell through the space between the seat back and cushion, but then she resettled on my lap. She got a little antsy near the end of the film and ran around for maybe 15 minutes, but most of the time she sat perfectly.
We sang along to “Want To Build A Snowman?” and she pointed out all sorts of things like “SNOW!” and “HORSE!” and “WOLF!” to which she gave an accompanying, ”A-wooooooo!”
And when those opening, almost hypnotic notes of “Let It Go” began she jumped up and squealed, singing along as best as she could and mimicking Queen Elsa’s movements, arms thrust in the air in triumph. I sat there not thinking about my birthday, turning 40 or the past or future, but concentrating only on my daughter, on our special time together.
When the film ended we stayed through the second rendition of “Let It Go” and headed back into the lobby. I thanked everyone for being so kind and then decided I needed to get Sienna a plush Olaf to mark the occasion of her first movie. We drove to 4 stores, but no one had anything Frozen-related leaving me highly disappointed, but Sienna none the wiser. I think I wanted that Olaf doll more for me than for her. I think I wanted it to salute my taking action against my anxiety and depression on a day where they’re often incapacitating. At least I have the pictures and memories.
♦◊♦
While seeing the movie with my daughter was incredible, I’d like to say that I was able to completely avoid my usual birthday doldrums, but I can’t. By the time my mother took Sienna and I out to dinner, I felt deflated and downcast. When my wife came home after I’d put Sienna down for the night, my chest was tight and I felt sad and alone and near tears. She asked me if I’d seen all the hundred+ birthday wishes from people on Facebook, but I hadn’t checked because I knew I’d concentrate more on who DIDN’T wish me a happy birthday than on who DID; just another evil aspect of depression.
But then I recounted the morning: the empty theater; Sienna checking out the ad for the new Muppet flick; our daughter getting that first taste of movie popcorn and, like a pro, grabbing fistfuls without taking her eyes of the screen; Sienna standing on my lap, our arms raised, our voices nearly drowning out Queen Elsa’s. I broke into a grin thinking of how proud I was of Sienna and how happy I am to be a dad and how although I couldn’t completely shut out my demons, I stunted them by taking my daughter to her first movie, and how for a good portion of my 40th birthday I was able to just let it go.
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Photo courtesy of author
My dad was depressed for most of my childhood. I recently sent him a list of things I remember doing with him when I was 3-6 years old and he couldn’t remember any of them. I’m 46 and only now having the courage to face the fact that my father doesn’t remember much of anything about me growing up. I think you are a superhero for making your daughter part of your birthday even though you dreaded it and suffered at times. I hope things begin to clear for you soon.
Thank you so much, Lucy! I can’t tell you how much that means to me. i don’t ever think I’ve been called a superhero before. I hope one day my daughter will see me in the same light 🙂
Good man Mr. Jaffe. Congratulations on making it out of the bed and being there for your little one!
I understand what you’re going through, and I’m proud of you. These days that you force yourself to give to her despite wanting to crawl back in bed and hide you are giving to yourself too, and making memories that will last 🙂
If you want to chat feel free to drop me a line… often having someone to talk to helps I think… the more friends the merrier.
-Ember
Thank you so much, Ember! I’m glad I was strong enough on that day to do what I did. Kills me when I’m not able to (I’m lucky in that I live close to my parents so my mom takes Sienna out if things are especially rough for me). Just enormous guilt. But I wasn’t giving in that day and I hope to be able to do more of that. I also really appreciate you offering to chat and I might take you up on it. I agree about talking to others. It’s definitely helped me since I had my… Read more »