Whispered Words
They gave me a different car this time. It threw me off quite a bit. Other than that, the drive to your town was great. Traffic was light and, after getting outside of the city, the sky had cleared to reveal the late-fall sun, which gently and pleasantly warmed the inside of the vehicle. Construction appeared to be wrapping up for the season, with only a few worksites left on the route.
After arriving in town, I stopped at the little grocery store to get some milk, bread, and bubbly water, then made my way to my apartment there to make sure it was presentable. I started a pot of coffee. Having coffee ready when you and the supervisor arrive has two main benefits: One, it makes the apartment smell nice. Two, I am able to enjoy a warm cup while you munch on your mid-afternoon snack. As a bonus, the supervisor likes coffee as well and I always offer her a cup.
Shortly after the last hisses and sighs from the coffee maker faded away, the doorbell rang. Your face was pressed against the glass in the door, your hands framing your head, your eyes searching. As soon as I opened up, you asked me where your present was. Creating the expectation that every time we meet there will be a present could be seen as over-the-top and even detrimental, but I donāt care. Seeing you makes me so happy that I canāt help but bring you a new toy almost every time we see each other. This time there were two presents, one from me, and one from Grandma and Grandpa. I had brought you a set of paw patrol vehicles and they had sent you a shiny spacesuit.
As you came into the apartment, you showed me the paper tooth you were wearing around your neck, and informed me that it had been given to you by the tooth fairy, who had visited your kindergarten that morning. It had your name on it in big green letters. The supervisor asked you if the tooth fairy had said you had good teeth, to which you replied that yes, she had. You wore the tooth around your neck for the duration of our visit. You seemed proud of it, and why not? It was a very cool paper tooth. I was happy to get a little glimpse into your life in kindergarten.
You let me know that you would be turning five right after Christmas, in a proud and almost curious did-I-know-this sort of way. I replied that I knew and that it was very cool. I told you you were growing up so fast, and you nodded your head and smiled. I wish I couldāve frozen this moment somehow and stored it away, in order to re-experience it when we are far apart. I wish I could save all of our moments together and relive them when Iām missing you, but unfortunately Iām a few centuries too early for the Holodeck. These moments live in my head as memories of course, and I recall them often. Not a day goes by that I donāt think about you, wonder how youāre doing, if you had a good day, if youāre having a fun and joy-filled life.
I unpackaged all the little vehicles and handed them to you one by one. You immediately got to work driving them around. I asked you if you wanted something to eat, to which you replied that you would like muesli. I wasnāt sure if you meant the chocolate cereal or the one with cookies, and asked you for clarification, which you gladly gave me. Chocolate cereal it was. I poured you a bowl of cereal and cups of coffee for the supervisor and me, and sat down next to you at the table. You told me excitedly that you had been to the zoo, and listed off many of the animals you had seen.
After your snack, you wanted to go to the big slide, so off we went. Itās a short walk from my apartment. You laughed and giggled as you went down the slide, over and over, and over. You asked me to be a ninja, which is something I have done since you were much younger. I, the āninjaā, jump up on the side of the slide in a sneaky ninja-fashion as you slide down. At one point, you were climbing up the ladder of the slide, and pretended to stuff berries in my ear. Then, you leaned in real close to my berry-filled ear and whispered that you loved me. As I replied that I loved you too, you asked me how I couldāve heard what you said, as my ear was full of berries. You were right, I said in a playful manner, thereās no way I could've heard anything! Iām not sure youāll ever know how much such simple words from you mean to me, even if there are āberriesā in my ear making it hard to hear them. I will remember our simple yet impactful exchange at the big slide in late fall for the rest of my life.
After you decided that you had slid and been chased by the ninja all you wanted, we made our way back to my apartment, or rather, I did, and you rode on my shoulders. We then went out back onto the patio and you ran up the stairs to the neighbor's balcony, which subsequently transformed into a steam locomotive, which you were driving and for which I was the fireman. As the sunās light faded, we went back inside and you had some cookie muesli as you talked to Grandma and Grandpa and your cousin via video call. Your eyes lit up as she showed you a few of her toys and her toy tent with Chester the Cheetah on the side of it. She also clearly enjoyed seeing you and kept saying āhiā to you. Grandpa showed you a Buzz Lightyear toy that had been mine when I was your age, and as he did this, you grabbed my arm and emphatically told me you would like one just like it.
After the call, we played a bit more, then watched some paw patrol. We were in the middle of playing with the Bob the Builder backhoe when the doorbell rang: it was time for you to go. As usual, our time together flew by. I put on your shoes and jacket, and gave you your spacesuit filled with the paw patrol cars, which you assured your Mom that you wanted to take with you. We said goodbye and I closed the door. I tidied up the toys, turned off the lights, and began the drive back home. When I arrived back in my city, it felt so strange to be so far apart from you again. I imagined you asleep safe and sound, which comforted me a little, and made my way into my apartment.