Some years
ago, back when my joints didn’t crack when I dragged myself off the couch, I
was father to four little girls. The last two are twins and there’s just a bit
more than three years separating all of them.
Each night,
after supper, and after their baths, I’d lay on the rug in the living room and
they’d jump all over me. I’d roll this way and that and growl like a bear and
they’d laugh until they couldn’t catch their breath. They smelled of baby
shampoo and talcum power.
Later, I’d
sit on the couch and the four of them would sit on my lap. I’d smell their
clean hair and read to them from Danny and the Dinosaur and Sammy the Seal,
both by Syd Hoff, and perhaps the best books ever written for little kids. I’d
change the stories a bit each night and they’d shout to correct me, “No, no,
no! That’s not the way it goes.” And I’d tell them that those are the words in
the book and that I wasn’t changing a thing, and in this way, the four of them
wanted to learn how to read. To keep me honest.
I traveled to
New York for the manufacturer’s rep in those days and when I came home late and
they wondered what happened I would ask them if they hadn’t seen it on the news.
“What Daddy?”
“You know
that big tennis stadium that we pass in Brooklyn when we drive sometimes? The
one that glows like a big balloon because they puff it up with air?” They nodded.
“Well, there’s a plumbing supply house right next door to that place, and today
one of the men drove his forklift into the big balloon. It was an accident, of
course, but the balloon took off into the air and flew all over the sky. It
landed across the highway and that’s why the traffic was backed up. And That’s
why I’m late.”
“were the
people still inside the balloon, Daddy?”
“Yes, and
they were all wearing white shorts.”
They looked
at me and at each other, and one would say, “That’s not true!” and I would look
hurt. Another would ask, “Is it true?”
“Of course
it is. Don’t you watch the news on the TV?” And in this way they became
interested in current events. Can’t be too careful with those big tennis
balloons.
They grew
and they all went to school together and I would drive them there whenever I
could. One day in early spring I had them look at the buds on the trees as we
drove and I told them that it’s important for them to pay close attention to
those buds because Lime Day was coming. I just cast it back there into the
minivan and waited for one of them to bite.
“What’s Lime
Day, Daddy?”
“What’s Lime
Day? Are you serious?”
They looked
at each other, each not wanting to be the only one not knowing, and once they
agreed that it was safe to continue, one said, “We don’t know what that is?”
So I laughed
and explained to them that Lime Day is a National holiday. It comes around once
a year on the day when all the buds on all the trees are that absolutely
perfect shade of lime. “It helps if it’s misting a bit on that day because a
bit of mist makes lime even prettier.”
Photo by Madison Nickels
“What day is
Lime Day, Daddy?”
“That’s the
best part,” I explained. “Every kid gets to call Lime Day. You have to watch
the trees very carefully, and you have to decide for yourself that it would be
impossible for the leaves to be any more limey than they are right now. Then
you call it and that’s it. Lime Day. The next day, the leaves are just boring
green and they’ll stay that way all summer long.”
“But what if
you call Lime Day and the next day is limier?”
“Well, then
your sister wins and that makes you a loser,” I explained.
They looked
at each other and said, “There’s no such day.”
“Of course
there is,” I said, and as spring crept closer and closer to us that year, I
convinced them that Lime Day was as real as the Fourth of July.
Now here
comes the best part: As the weeks went by, they each went to their classes and
told the other kids about Lime Day. The other kids told my kids that they were
full of crap, of course, but in their hearts, those other kids wanted there to
be such a day because it’s just the best thing going, so they went home and
asked their parents. The kids explained Lime Day and the magnificent parents
all lied right along with me. Wouldn’t you?
Photo by Jan's Archive
They came to
see the beauty of nature in the paved-over, suburban world of Long Island and
they carried it with them. In all the many years that have gone by since then,
each of my daughters call in Lime Day each spring, no matter where she is in
the world. I live for those calls.
This blog was used with permission from a larger post by Dan Holohan, at Heatinghelp.com. To read the post in its entirety, please
go to https://heatinghelp.com/blog/sully/
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