A few days ago I was given an opportunity to do a super mom thing. That morning my son had received a package from one of his many admirers. It was filled with great second hand clothes and one plastic Spider man ring, which he broke in the first hour, some stickers and a small stuffed cow he promptly named Lovey. Together we introduced Lovey to his other important sleep animals, as it seemed that Lovey might make the cut and become one of them. It was early but her prospects looked good. My son had been sick for three days with what I now know first hand to be a nasty cold/flu. He had begun moving away from the virus, I was moving towards it. It was a glorious sunny day. A break in the drab winter backdrop. I had decided if his fever stayed away, we would go for a walk later in the afternoon. My body was feeling cramped and cooped up. Exercise and I have had a fitful relationship. I have used it to punish, nurture, push, and enliven my body. But mostly I allow it to languish. I love to walk and hike now and for the most part I have let go of the negative uses of exercise, but consistency is still a stretch. My hope was to answer the call my body was making, stave off the virus and get my son some much needed fresh air, all in one walk. It is interesting how a simple action or event can become so much more when it unfolds.
I am not sure how far the walk is, even though it is the same one I have done now for the six months we have been here. I know it takes me an hour to complete. As usual, my son asked to take a couple of small toys in the stroller with him and I agreed. Lovey was his first choice and his plastic all in one play-dough tool, his second. After blankets, snacks, water, cellphone, and all the other necessary accoutrement’s for an outing with my son were assembled, we set off. The walk went off without a hitch. We had fun and waxed sentimental about how beautiful our new town is. Exactly one hour after setting out, we returned to the garage. In the process of extracting my son from his stroller we discovered the awful truth, Lovey was missing. At first a frantic search ensued of the stroller and all it’s pockets, nooks and crannies. No Lovey. Then came the tears. My son can cry manipulation tears with the best of them, but these were real distress tears. “She’s gone,” he wailed, “and I just got her today.” I was tired and was now certain I was coming down with my son’s flu. I didn’t know how severe it would be but I knew it had set up camp and was being fruitful and multiplying. Praying he would say no, I said, “why don’t we go back and look for her?” Then a strange thing happened. He was sitting on the stairs leading up to our house in such a dejected posture that when I heard his reply of, “no someones already taken her I bet,” supermom rose up inside me and I found myself firmly saying, “we don’t know that for sure, lets go back and look.” I knew for both of us it wasn’t about finding her it was about trying. I knew I had made the right choice when he looked up with such gratitude and said, “really mommy, can we?”
“Yes we can.”
We took the whole walk all over again and Lovey was no where to be found. A few times he wanted to give up and go home, he was sure we wouldn’t find her because she was such a great toy. I knew he needed to retrace all our steps, even if he didn’t. We talked about all the times he has found toys, some on that very path, that he has taken home and made his own. He said maybe some kid was doing that with Lovey right now, loving her the way he would if he had found her. I told him this world was like a big toy exchange that what some of us loose others find and cherish and we do the same for their losses. He liked that and so did I. Upon our second return to the garage, my son was still a little sad but peaceful with his loss and I was an exhausted but very contented mommy.
