Taking Grandpa for a ride

If you now me, you know I had the most incredible father imaginable. He died in 2004 before I was pregnant and knew Sebastian was coming. I often imagine the joy my son would have brought to my dad had he met him.

Friday night, Sebastian was hitting the couch with a stick. He was making quite a raucous and I thought about asking him to stop. Then I thought, heck, I was gone for 2 days.. let the kid beat the couch.

Suddenly, the house was silent.  I looked over at Sebastian.  We have this funny look we do to each other across a crowded room.  He returns the look and says, “Grandpa told me it was too loud so I stopped.”

Oh, is grandpa here Sebastian?

“Yes, he is just invisible.”

Sebastian has said this before.  It gives me tingles every time he says it.  I so hope it is true.  That somehow my dad is here holding my little boy.  (and disciplining him on annoying noises… Dad, coach him to eat more vegetables while you are at it.)

If you know me.. you likely know the story about the liquid amber seeds.

Last week in a lonely hotel in New Jersey, I found another one. My dad works in mysterious ways.

I showed it to my son today. He asked if he could put it in his pocket. I hesitated for a second, not wanting to lose it.  It has been worn down by the vacuum or traveling through a worm hole to get here so it is comfortable in his pocket.  He smiles and rides away on his scooter.

Moments later we adventure out into the light drizzle for a scooter ride. There is this great car-less path in Brisbane with a slight downhill on the way back.

I hear Sebastian talking… I catch up with him and ask him what he was saying.

“I’m not talking to you momma, I’m talking to grandpa.”
Oh, what were you saying.
“Well, I’m taking grandpa on his first scooter ride. He wants me to do it from the top of that turn over there. You wait here momma.  Really Momma. You wait here.”
Tears now, I nod.
“Don’t worry momma, we will be safe.  I’ll take care of grandpa.”
He runs up to the top of the turn talking all the way there. In the sweetest little hushed voice.
He squeals as he races to the bottom of the hill. I can barely catch him with my knee issue. He is laughing and talking and it is such bliss.
We fall to the bottom and we are both laughing and rolling on the ground. Sebastian looks at me and said, “Uh oh.. grandpa wants to do it AGAIN momma!”

Life is so sweet.  I just hope my dad didn’t see me throw a hand size peace sign at the cat last night when he tried to take the table cloth off the table…..I want him to remember me as NOT an incongruent 40ish year old.

Flaming unicycles

Scare Grove. Nice.
Jeremy: performer
Picked an 8 year old out of the audience. Handed her a torch that was 1/3 as tall as the kid.
Lit the torch.
The parents in the audience looking at each other. A mixture of, is this safe and how neat.
She lit his juggling batons and he lit is unicycle on fire.
I’m hoping we are taking a turn in our society. Allowing a little more risk and less fear of lawsuits.
I asked him about it after… “I trust kids more than adults.”
Me too.


When I was a kid,  I read a book about the future.  A future when we hobbled brilliant dancers with bricks and brilliant thinkers with loud sounds, so we would all be equal.
Lately, I’ve felt a wee bit hobbled–my own doing… up late… most nights… wanting to unhobble… unclear on how to do it.
One of my mentors sent me a link to a movie. 9 minutes into it I’m feeling annoyed by it’s emotional obviousness.
nice. Beautiful. A story about how we see things. How our belief about something makes it so.

Flat Mason

I most admire humans who do weird things to make the day of a child. Standing in front of a group of 70 entrepreneurs last month a speaker (and friend) stopped what he was doing and asked someone to pull out a camera.
He mentioned that a friend of his has a son named Mason. Mason made a paper version of himself and called it “Flat Mason.” He asked the speaker to take Flat Mason with him since he traveled the world.
The speaker took out the paper Mason and stopped in the middle of his gig to take the photo. Tears in the eyes of many in the room.
Makes me think about how busy I always say I am. Years from now, Mason will have a photo album of all these places that someone cared enough to create for him.