My New Backpack

February 6, 2018.Reading time 6 minutes.

When I got my first job, I went out and bought a briefcase. It was nice – brown leather with the combination clasps. The problem was that I had nothing to put into it. Let’s be honest, my entry-level position wasn’t very important. I was basically a cut-up and had no intention of transporting critical documents home for late evening work. So I loaded it with old files and a few magazines to make it look like I had important stuff going on. Every morning I would plop it on my desk, turn the combination, and pretend to get things out of it like everyone else. I forgot the combination at some point and just quit opening it. Nobody noticed…

Briefcases are another one of those things like rotary phones that are quickly becoming relics of a bygone era. Backpacks have become the modern-day briefcase. With the weight of laptops it makes much more sense to put it on your back rather than lug it around. I’m very picky about my backpacks. How do you rate them? Strong straps, durable construction, roomy compartments, easy access. All of those things are important.

But I have a new backpack.

I’ve been a big lummox all my life. My first Army ID listed me as 6’ 3”, 197 lbs. Over the years, I’ve lost on one side and gained on the other. When these petite little girls started coming in my life, I loved putting them on my shoulders like a backpack. Their favorite way to get up there was to have me swing them back and forth a few times, and then arc them up and over my head until they were seated on top. I did that once at a Braves game and the whole section gasped as if I were throwing her out onto the field. Calm down, people… this is how we do things in giant-world.

Sometimes I would carry them two at a time on my back. It was a trick to get them up there but they could sit comfortably front to back.

I wonder what the perspective is like from someone’s shoulders. Like many childhood things, there comes a time when you are too big to get on top of another so you must look for yourself and your own height is all you get. When my girls got too big, I started carrying the family supplies on my back like a pack mule.

But my new backpack.

My new backpack is neither functional nor roomy. In fact, it has one small zippered pouch barely big enough for my phone. Still, I love it. I love it because it reminds me of when my life was whole and my family intact. It is as whimsical as the unchallenged man I used to be… before my Kylie died.

I carried Kylie on my shoulders more than any of them because she couldn’t keep up with her sisters on her little legs. When we would go to the zoo, park, or anywhere that required a lot of walking, she would inevitably hold her hands in the air to be picked up and I could never resist that smile. So I carried her. I carried her around the house when her leg began to hurt and I carried her when her body was depleted from chemo. The night she died I carried her to the hearse so there would be no stretcher in my house. And now my shoulders are empty because I can’t carry her anymore.

But maybe there’s a way…

This is my new backpack.

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It’s a penguin because Kylie loved penguins. I have carried it around the zoo, the beach, and now Disney World. I probably look like an idiot… in fact I’m sure I do. But I’ve never cared much about that. You see, for some peculiar reason, when I carry it I feel like I’ve got my little girl on my shoulders and she can see things she might have otherwise missed. I know it’s stupid, but lots of things in life are stupid and most things about death are, so I’m just going to carry my penguin around.

If you’re on vacation somewhere and see a big, dopey guy with a little penguin backpack, stop and say hi. I’m not as crazy as I seem, although that is debatable.

The way I see it from up here, I’m just sharing life with my baby the only way I know how.

The Cost of Magic

January 29, 2018.Reading time 6 minutes.

Our trip to Disney World was cold, rainy, and wonderful. When I told friends about the weather we endured in Orlando they offered sympathetic responses. But they don’t know. Because when you’re a Disney Pro, cold and rainy is what you want; inclement weather keeps the Floridians with season passes at home and brings the wait times down! Throw disposable ponchos in the backpack and you are king of the park. Add extra magic hours and at 1 am on a rainy day you can walk right on to Space Mountain over and over again.

Disney World is a place of magic for my family. It all started when we had three with the forth on the way. We saved our pennies and took the plunge for our first trip. It was a lot for a young family, but was worth it the minute we walked onto Main Street and our oldest (5 at the time) broke into spontaneous dance when she took in the lights and sounds around her.

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We went back a few years later when we had our full complement of children. Even at two, Kylie was so happy on the ferry ride that she had to pull her shirt up and rub her belly – which is the ultimate expression of joy!

I won’t bore you with our memories – they are special to us, but most are the, “you had to be there,” kind of funny. This trip might have been our last as a family living together. It was a graduation present for Meredith (college) and Jenna (high school). Pretty soon, real life will set in for them. We may get back there again, you never know. But there are no guarantees once they start leaving the nest. In fact, there are no guarantees at all.

This trip, we walked just over fifty miles in five days. In the past, with my head visible above the crowd, I was the exclusive leader of the pack. But now, at 50, I followed some. Only Jenna and I have the fortitude it takes to successfully navigate Disney – to crush the elderly and push small children aside. The others are too soft-hearted to get anywhere because you have to be decisive in a crowd and move with purpose. That’s a joke, of course, no one (that we know of) was actually hurt during our Disney Trip.

While we were on a bus one day, our 20-year-old, Kendall made the statement that this was her ninth trip to Disney. I was floored. One of those was with her high school chorus, but eight were family trips. Thinking of the money I had just shelled out, I found it hard to believe we got there eight times! But she remembers everything so I stopped doubting her long ago.

With the girls sleeping on the trip back, the old, worn-out folks began to reminisce about the week. We talked about how much we missed Kylie there – she would have loved every second of it. Of course, we also felt her there often. Our life is now a conflicted state of hard/easy, joy/pain, contentment/discontent.

As a father who has had to hammer at the budget for over 22 years, I pondered the amount of money we spent on those eight trips. There have been some lean years mixed in there; years of belt-tightening and tough decisions. Yet we went eight times! That total cost must be mid-five digits before the decimal – likely enough to buy a nice car. That’s a lot of money.

And I don’t want a dollar back. My circumstance has taught me that experience trumps anything I own or could own. Kylie was taken away from me too early, but no one can ever take away the memory of her first meeting with Mickey Mouse or her smile when she was finally big enough to ride Splash Mountain.

Kylie’s knee would start hurting soon after we returned from this trip

If you are a young dad, please listen to me: Take the trip! Use your vacation! Spend the money! I am not advocating financial irresponsibility – if you are struggling to make ends meet, take a camping trip (I grew up with vacations in tents.) But most of us could endure a smaller house, a less expensive car, or fewer nights out. Skimp somewhere else but do not shortchange your time and experience with you children. The big car will always be at the dealership, but the reality of life is that none of us are promised another day with our loved ones. We should live our lives with that in mind and leave no room for regret.