Dear Readers: I didn’t realize this is what I’d signed up for as a young man coming home from my Friday night organic chemistry lab at UC Irvine so many years ago to receive my 30th birthday present from my wife: a small package that inside contained “parent magazine”. Over-the-moon happy, shaking with the joyful surprise, there couldn’t have been any gift in the world more precious than the news she’d just given me. Eight months later I got to hold my gorgeous newborn baby girl, Sigrid.
Then, a few years later when I was a senior at Purdue Veterinary School, I witnessed the second crowning joy of our lives, the birth of our beautiful baby son, Magnus.
Little did I know then, during the most wonderful time of our lives, amongst the stress of exams, the unknown of being new parents, the struggles of making tuition payments, and the uncertainty of passing all the board exams, that the babies would grow up in the blink of an eye. But of course that is just what happened.
Recently I boarded a flight to New York City with my daughter, Sigrid. Everything was fine during the week we spent in New York getting her set up for college. I mean why wouldn’t it be? It’s every father’s dream to have his tall, beautiful talented soprano, ballet-dancing, actress daughter embark off to a prestigious musical conservatory in New York. She is excited, settling in well, and doing just what she is meant to do in this life: study and hone her talents, be the best she can be, and bring joy and entertain people with her incredible talent.
The trouble was, I had the round-trip ticket. At the week’s end, I had to say goodbye. After a hug and a few tears, we each said “I love you” and she said “Papa, I’ll miss you”. On my way back to my hotel, I said the Serenity Prayer many times. I also asked the Almighty to keep my little 30th birthday present safe and happy. But still, on the flight home without her, I couldn’t help but dry the big blobby sponge-bob tears off my puffy cheeks as they dribbled down endlessly.
Sigrid’s cat Sonja is at her mother’s house, where Sigrid has lived the past two years. The kitty will no doubt be a sweet reminder to Sigrid’s mother of how sweet and special our daughter is, and what an animal lover she is too. Not only will Sonja NOT be a burden, I think she will take on special meaning for my ex-wife as a little “piece” of our daughter will still feel like she is living at home.
And next up to bat, my son Magnus, who is moving down to attend UC San Diego in 2 weeks. I plan on driving my own car behind him and his mom as they drive down to transport all his “extra junk” that he will need in the dorm. Then I’m planning on staying a few extra days to make sure things are feeling OK for him there (and to make sure he gets a good surf board if he wants one).
I’m not sure if I’m prepared for this event because of the proximity of this launch with that of my daughter, the shock of seeing this wonderful young man spread his wings and make a life for himself seems to have come at a lightning-fast pace.
It seems like only moments ago when I took a day off in 1996 from surgery rotation in vet school to watch him come into the world. I remember how big and beautiful he looked next to all the other babies in the maternity ward. I remember the sweet chimes of “Brahms Lullaby” which played throughout every floor of the Catholic Hospital every time a baby was born at the hospital in Indiana. And now, suddenly, he is 6’4” and ready to take on college and the world.
The time has raced like a meteor, and although I have a great career as a veterinarian, I feel now that all I really know and understand is being the father of these two wonderful kids. I know that I should be feeling nothing but joy that both these wonderful kids are succeeding and doing well in life, but honestly, there is a part of me that is mourning their absence. This feeling is a bit scary and completely unknown to me, and the worst part is, I am being blindsided by it.
My solution? Squishy-Bon-Bon. At least I have her: Magnus’ 16-pound, crazy tuxedo kitty cat that he has had since she was born here in the hospital eight years ago. He is leaving her in my care, and she is a treasure like no other to him.
“Take care of Squishy B. while I’m gone, dad” he prepares me. “I’ll come back to see her”, and “I’m gonna want to take her with me in a couple years as soon as I get a place off campus”. So until that day comes, I can pour my love, and my tears, into the big, plump, goofy black and white kitty that hunkers down on Magnus bed every day. Heck, she may even be willing to look at some old scrap books of the kids with me while I’m adjusting to empty nest syndrome. And its nice to know the kids will come back and see us.
Mom and dad, having the pets here, as reminders of them (and as ransom) is certainly a good, square deal for us.
Dr. F
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