Blog

Feb. 22, 2024

Day #3 of solo parenting:

Photo by Eric Coble

We have taken the walk down to our local library hundreds of times.  

We usually wander side by side, with her occasionally climbing up to walk on a wall, or venture up some steps into someone’s yard, or splash in a puddle her father has told her not to splash in.

But as we near the library there is a long hedgerow – about 100 feet long and about 4 feet high, running beside the sidewalk  separating the walk from a small parking lot.  

When we reached it today Lightning Bug asked, “Can I walk on this side?” meaning the other side of the bushes from me.  I said sure.

There are no leaves on the hedges now, but they’re still thick enough so that you can’t see through them, and if one is shorter than 4 feet tall (and one of us is), that person becomes invisible for the duration of the journey.

So we separated and walked on quietly, just the sound of distant traffic and occasional birds prematurely announcing spring.  

Each of us on our own side of the barrier with our own thoughts, neither of us able to see the other.  Each having a moment alone, together, trusting that we’d see one another on the other end.

And we did.  

And she beamed at me.

At having had her own adventure.

At having given me mine.

And we walked the rest of the way to the library hand in hand.