I took Dylan down to the waves for a short time during our quick visit to San Diego. Before I could harness my words, I heard myself say, "Please Dylan, don't get wet."
Did you just really say that, lady? I asked myself.
I scolded myself silently.
"Let me get this straight...You bring your 5 yr old kid to the beach for the first time in many days, and you ask him to avoid the water?"
I felt shameful. I felt old and cranky.
Who is this person, I wondered.
How do our edges become so jagged. Why do the cuts and bruises, sweat and tears strip us of joy?
We all start out young and carefree, eager to splash and play in the sand. Then our freedom to live among joy and simple pleasure is slowly taken away.
I think about my patients that haven't felt joy in years. Did they ever have the freedom to be youthful and happy?
Can you ever truly be happy if you don't even know what it is?
Thinking about the complexities of life made me forget for a few moments that I was standing amongst true unadulterated happiness.
His face was lit with the setting sun, sand covered his tiny feet, and he squealed as he ran from the waves.
I prayed silently, "Please don't let me steal his happiness...ever. Don't let me snatch those moments from him selfishly."
I knew I would without even realizing it.
He spoke, "Oh no mom, I'm all wet."
I almost cried for making him worry.
"Have fun, Dylan. You will dry. I will help you. You don't have to worry."