A Man, A Boy, and Paddy Cake

I met the most wonderful guy on the bus the other day.

This isn't a prospective cute guy for myself; after all, he was with his adorable two year old son.

This morning it was pretty gloomy. It was raining after a stretch of pure sunshine, and I didn't have an umbrella. I'm waiting for the bus at about 7:30, frustrated that I had missed an earlier bus and at the fact that I had no umbrella to shield me from the rain. Suddenly this man walked up, wearing a short sleeved shirt and shorts, pushing a stroller with a bouncing blonde boy sitting in it.

It was impossible, even in my bad mood, to ignore the smiling boy. What drew me in even more was the adoring look on his face, and the infectious smile that the boy had.

The dad was playing a video on his iPhone, and the familiar strains of "patty cake" began to play over and over. As the song began to play, the dad began to sing along, with his son attempting to catch up with him. On a gloomy day, this was a shot of sunshine in my life.

I began talking to this dad, asking him about where he was taking his son at such an hour. His son had more energy than any person on the bus at that time, and despite the dad's energetic and happy demeanor, there was a look of tiredness in his eyes.

Giving his phone to his son, the dad turned to me and said that he was dropping his son off at daycare before he went to Surrey Memorial Hospital. After asking if he was a doctor, he laughed and shook his head no.

He began to tell me about how he was a single father, taking care of this boy. In an ultrasound before the birth of his son, the doctors warned them that the boy may be born with serious birth defects, and were given the opportunity to abort. That was the make or break of our relationship, he told me. I wanted to keep him, but my fiancee wanted to abort. 

Shortly after the baby was born,  healthy and normal, she still broke up with him, leaving him to raise this baby boy on his own. 6 months later, he said, he was diagnosed with cancer. He had his ups and down with the treatment, and despite his remission after his son's first birthday, his cancer returned and spread violently. At the moment, he was going to Surrey Memorial for a chemotherapy treatment. I didn't want to pry and ask what his current situation was, but noting the look in my eyes, he quietly told me that he had Stage 4 terminal cancer. He had been given one and a half to two years to live. Despite all this, he would take his son every day to day care before he went for treatment or running household errands. He would get up every morning at 5, warm his son's bottle and food, pack his son's bag (with his son's favorite yellow sweater inside), wake his son up at 6 and got him ready to catch the bus at 7:16 AM. And on the bus every day, they would watch the same video and play paddy cake.

He did that every single day.

In my silence, I reflected on my shock. All I could think of was his son - barely two year old - and what could happen to him. I thought about the dad himself, how difficult this must be for him to raise his son and potentially not be there for his son anymore.

In those moments, words don't even begin to cover the feelings or sentiments that can convey your sympathy. His quiet words, after a beat, said it all: "Am I angry? Yeah. I won't be able to coach my son on the sidelines, teach him the alphabet, help him drive and get him a girlfriend. But that doesn't mean that my whole life stops because I'm angry... he needs me. And all I can do for him is give him all of me before I don't exist."

After he said this, his stop had arrived. Slowly getting up, he pushed his son's stroller towards the door, telling him to say goodbye to me. As they got off the bus, an overwhelming feeling of sadness came over me.

Life, as I have seen, is so unpredictable. Even the most mundane tasks and routine can be taken for granted. I began to realize how discontent I have become with my 6 AM radio wake up calls, 10 minutes spent in front of an open closet and the same breakfast foods. I have become resentful of the same dinners, the same pathways to the bus and the usual ways I waste my time.

This man taught me that even something so repetitive can be an experience. I could tell that he was afraid of what was to come, but at the same time, he showed no weakness. He cherished every day and every action with his son, every last one of them, no matter how small or annoying. 

If this man could be so joyful and cheerful in the face of disease and turmoil, then I, a person in good health and good life, should be even more joyful. Yet, this man has shown me that life is short and unpredictable. There is no time to be resentful, upset or angry at small things. After all, the more time we spend being angry or holding grudges, the less time we have to enjoy the beauty and company of people and things around us.

Enjoy your life, every last bit of it. I thank this gentleman for reminding me of an obvious and yet profound truth - thank you, thank you, thank you.

x R

"Puberty? No Thanks."

On the radio at work the other day, an interesting story caught my attention and I stopped to take a listen.

A mother in Denver, Colorado publicly chastised her 13 year old daughter who had created a Facebook page, posed as a 19 year old girl and posted racy photos of herself on that page. When her mom found out about this page and the fact that she had befriended older men that were more than double her age, she took to Facebook. Posting a video of her openly reprimanding her daughter, mother Valerie Starks pointed out different things - her daughter's true age, her bed time, what she watches on TV - that would hopefully clear the air that this girl truly is 13.

I am not here to discuss whether or not Valerie Starks' chosen method of punishment is fair or not, while that is an interesting topic of discussion. What I do want to talk about is the 13 year old girl.

I have never met this 13 year old girl before. I don't know her situation, what is going through her mind and the troubles that she has been through. And some how, knowing this information may be able to help answer the question why. Why did she make this Facebook page? Why did she pose as a 19 year old girl? Why?

In a previous post I marveled at how girls seem to be maturing at double the speed that I was. When I say maturing, I mean the clothes they wear, how they talk, how they present themselves and what they do in their spare time. It is quite shocking to be scrolling through Instagram or Facebook and see girls that I have seen growing up in elementary school, and all of a sudden, they are going out to parties or spending afternoons with their friends downtown.

But the biggest thing that surprises me about this 13 year old girl and other girls of similar age is the fact that they seemed to have bypass the whole adolescence and puberty stage and went straight to being teenagers.

In a time when the world is so focused on consumerism and instant gratification, I have begun to brush shoulders with younger girls inside of H&M. I would be waiting in line at Starbucks sandwiched in between the tweens of today. They would be going to the parties that I have never gone to.

I might be a tad jealous. Just a bit. But at the same time, I feel sad for the up and coming generation.

The biggest part of life is growing up. Growing up has it's perks, but it also has its ugly sides. One of those ugly sides is the awkward stage of puberty.

I loathed puberty. The minute I turned 12 it seemed like it all went down hill from there. It was like the universe was taunting me, saying "Hey, happy birthday, here is a storm of nasty things for you to enjoy for the rest of your life." And those nasty things included angry hormones, acne, untamed eyebrows, weight gain and continually looking flat as a board.

Of course, all bad things come to an end and eventually pass as well, and the golden age of 15 seemed to be when puberty began to bite the dust inside of me. Now, I can confidently say that I look more like a girl, and I can also very confidently say that I do not miss puberty one bit.

Having said that, one can't just bypass puberty. You can't take a pass on it, say "thanks but no thanks" and pretend like it doesn't exist. Because like it or not, you are growing up and when you grow up, a lot of things change. It is a rite of passage and coming of age thing.

So seeing girls at age 12 or 13 who wear make up, have flawless skin and are wearing clothes that I wear now is disheartening. I can't blame them for their good fortune. However, the disheartening part comes from the fact that many girls have rushed through this "coming of age".

What has forced girls to grow up so much faster than they need to? Instead of complaining about not having enough books to read, more and more girls are now concerned about what selfie they should post on Instagram. All the worries that a typical teenager would have seems to be universal across all ages of walking and talking girls, and the younger ones are starting to catch on.

I'm not saying that we need to hold on to all of our young girls and shield them from the outside world or only let them go out when they turn 20. What I hope is that girls don't feel the pressure to grow up too fast. Because let's face it, even with the restrictions that some of our parents may give us when we are young children, the life of a child is not hard at all. There is little responsibility and little risk of anything harming us. Entering into a world of social media, pop culture and consumerism can be challenging to navigate and keep up with. But young girls (and I mean real 12, 13 year olds) shouldn't feel this pressure that they have to shop at Forever 21 or have Instagram accounts.

Life is beautiful, and all girls are beautiful. Life is a process, and going through it helps you to grow and prepare for what lies ahead. And truthfully, I would have loved to skip puberty altogether, but I know that without it, I would not get to where I am today. Every day  I learn something new, and throughout puberty I learned more and more about self-awareness and self confidence.

What you wear should not define you. What social media you have or don't have should not define you. Whether or not you wear make should not define you. Your age, your weight, your height - none of that should define you.

You should be defined by who you are. We need to be the generation who is comfortable in our own skin.

Whether or not this 13 year old girl posed as a 19 year old girl because she was insecure, not feeling the adolescence life or just wanted to get back at her mom does not matter. What I hope for her, and all young girls, is that they remember that you are all wonderful and beautiful people. Puberty will pass and you will survive (living example: me). You will outgrow the awkwardness and begin to look normal (another living example: me). And in retrospect, it's not all scary. In fact, it is a life changing moment when you begin to realize that you are growing up. This growing up thing happens inevitably, and when time passes, you can't get it back. Enjoy the time that you have right now, regardless of age. You will only be 13 once - embrace it!

Never be ashamed of your age - you are special, unique, and the world needs you to be that way!

     then vs. now   

Your favorite teenager (who can't actually claim that she is a teenager anymore),

x R