NOVEMBER 2010
It is a Saturday morning at the local Bounce U—the latest craze in kids’ birthday parties. My four year old, Madeline, has been invited to a classmate’s party & she’s anxiously tugging at the sleeve of my jacket. “Come on, MOMMMMM! We’re gonna be late.” I take a deep breath, affix my Joker like smile and walk in. I know what to expect: two hours of, “Where’s Jeremy?” and “How is Jeremy?” I am nauseated.
We enter the loud cavernous room filled with the joyful noise of excited children. I quickly survey the room. The dads are in the various inflatable contraptions, jumping & rough housing with their kids. The moms are in a semi circle in the middle of the room; clutching their Starbucks, sharing harmless gossip, and waving as their kids their kids’ shriek “LOOK AT ME, MOMMA!” Typical Saturday birthday party scenario.
Madeline is a quick study. She squeezes my hand, looks up at me, and testing my emotional barometer says, “There sure are a lot of Daddies here today, huh Mommy?” I nod. “Yes, Baby. There sure are.” She looks down at her stocking feet. “I remember when I had a Daddy. He used to jump with me here….” I pick her up and kissing her face I say, “I do, too, Mads. I do, too. Daddy loves you so much—he’s just not here right now. Let’s have Momma & Maddie jump time-- I am a really good jumper!” My four year old smiles. Then giggles. Then I see the happiness return to her eyes. I glance in the full length mirror to make sure my Joker smile is still affixed. I can’t ever let her know how sad I am for her. Ever.
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