Regrets, I’ve had a few;

The Elder Boy is a nice mixture between me and his Mom. One of the traits he shares with me is a strong memory. This is one of those double edges - on one hand its great to remember where you were at when X happened. What song was playing. Who that actor was in that movie, etc. etc. etc. On the other, it is not great when the memory continually dredges up negative events in your life. Not so much in the cautionary sense, more in the beat yourself up, why did I do that, sense.

Case in point.

We (Team Tinsley) often walk after dinner. Family thing. The habit was formed when we used to walk our dear, but now departed, dog dog, Sophie. To this day, Ethan will often say "Walk Dog Dog" or "Walk Sophie" vs. saying "Go for a walk." After Sophie was put to sleep, we started extending these walks (Sophie was so old she couldn't go beyond our block) a few blocks to a bridge that overlooks a creek in our hood. This creek is full of wild ducks (meaning they won't accept human hand-outs) as well as turtles (love our hand-outs - generally bread.) Ethan loves to go to the creek to feed the turtles. Let me rewind a bit. Ethan often has to be convinced to go on the walk. Even though he always has fun when we do it - he needs a gentle push to get him into walk mode. Generally by the time dinner dishes are done, he's into something else. Usually trucks. He has a hard time extricating himself from playing so he doesn't want to go on the walk at first. Wyatt loves the walks. The walks are such a part of his routine that he has a hard time with the transition to bath and night night time unless he goes on the walk. The point!!! Ethan having a hard time quitting whatever it is he is doing, will often ask to take whatever it is he is playing with at the time. Thus, on this fateful trip, before we knew better, Ethan took a toy truck on the walk, and said truck now sleeps with the fishes, er turtles in the creek.

The funny thing in hindsite is that Ethan didn't freak out when he dropped the truck (by accident) in the creek. He wanted it back of course, but there wasn't anyway to get it which we explained. It was gone. For good. Final. He accepted it, and we moved on with the walk, heading back home, wishing the turtles a good night (Ethan will often wave and tell the Turtles hello when we drive over this bridge.)

Ethan has a lot of toy cars and trucks. I'd guest close to 100. We have a tub thingy full of them. Thus, you would think that the truck in the creek would soon by forgotten. Wrong. Later that very night after he lost his truck, he started talking about this truck. "Gotta get it" or "Gotta find it" quickly faded to resignation that it was indeed, gone for good. But he still remembered it, or more importantly that moment when it slipped from his hands and went into the creek.

Like sand through the hour glass of time...fast forward...

The other night on our walk, we met one of our older neighbors walking his Jack Russell Terrier. Carter made small talk about the weather to him - she was in front with Wyatt in the jog stroller - Ethan and I were in the rear, me pulling him in his big red wagon (the new rule learned from the loss of the truck is that if he takes something on the walk, he has to ride in the wagon, where the stuff has a 'safe' home vs. riding 'up high' which means on my shoulders.)

Carter finished the chit-chat and we start up again. I say Bye to the old neighbor. Ethan turns around and starts telling him about the truck he dropped in the creek. We're talking at least 6 weeks in the rearview at this point. Yet, he's acting like it was yesterday. The old neighbor, looked at us blankly as Ethan kept talkng about 'lost truck - drop creek - gone - sad - Ethan sad." This isn't the first time he's done it. Ever since lost the truck, he'll bring it up at the strangest times, usually with strangers. Sharing this story vividly with them - as they smile and undoubtly think, what is this kid talking about?

Sounds sort of funny and cute when typed as such...but...it is one of those mirror things - where see yourself in your child - and the reflection isn't necessarily nice...

Case in point.

We (Carter and Me) went to Richmond, VA in early June for a family wedding. We a had a wonderful time actually. One hiccup was that we were lost a lot. I'm generally a tracker in the driving directions station, so it adds insult to injury for me to be lost. We were lost from when we landed and then most of the weekend. The worst being Saturday night after the wedding. Late, and very tired, we got so lost I think we damn near drove to West Virginia. Next day, time to go, running late for the Airport, we got lost (inside the airport which was under construction.) Add the fact that we'd been lost all weekend, we're running late for the flight (another pet peeve of mine) and the fact that I'm scared of flying - I lost it. Incredible Hulk. Stu's Temper 1, Stu 0. I put my fist into the windshield and broke it. Idiot. Bad. Glass splinters in my knuckles, looks like we hit a deer going 50 mph. Bad. As soon as I did it, I was sick with remorse, which is normal for me. I lose it, then feel such guilt for losing it, I punish myself for days/weeks/months/years. Dredging up the memory over and over at the strangest times. I don't bring up this incident with complete strangers like the truck in the creek - Unlike Ethan's incident - mine was not an accident, I should have been able to control my temper - but the same trait to relive the event over and over is one in the same. Both are long gone in the rearview - neither of us can take back what happened.

Until I BLOG again...Thanks for listening.