I remember being five years old
and walking through the forest
by our house with my dad. It was
filled with adventure and seemed
to go on forever. It was always
an adventure! I always felt safe
because I knew my dad was
there if I faced any real danger.
“Why is grass green, dad?” I
remember asking.
“Because it has something called
chlorophyll. It helps plants make
their own food.”
“Like we make sandwiches?”
“Ha-ha, similar in a way,” he
rubbed my head.
I came across a dead bird and
was very curious as to why he
died and why the ants were all
over him.
“What happened to him?” I
asked.
“His life ended.”
“Why?”
“Because everyone’s life has to
end sometime.” My father was
very calm talking about a
completely new idea to me.
“Us too?” I asked in a fearful
tone.
“Everyone, son, you and me,
that’s life. But it will not happen
for a long time.” He smiled and
hugged me.
I felt an ugly empty feeling in the
pit of my stomach. My dad was
my hero and I had just learned
that my hero would one day
leave me. How was a child
supposed to react to that?
I remember asking him questions
about everything: why birds flew
instead of ran, who named the
animals, why were trees so tall
and why they lived longer than
us, why fish couldn’t talk, and
why some animals died when
others lived. I guess I was already
thinking life’s most meaningful
questions in a kid’s innocent
ways.
My father took all these
questions with noble patience
explaining that each animal had
a role in the world and they just
knew what to do.
“They just know?” I asked.
“That’s right; just like you knew
how to cry when you were little,
and just how mom knew what to
do to make you stop crying.”
“I love Mom.”
“I love Mom, too.”
I thought for a bit, just staring at
the grass and the river. I saw a
flower growing by the river bank
and it reminded me of a girl at
school that always wore a flower
in her hair. “What about girls?”
He chuckled, “What about
them?”
“Why are they here?” Looking
back now I realize what a silly
boy I was, ha-ha.
“Ha-ha, one day you will see
why, but what makes you ask?”
“There’s a girl that always wears
a flower in her hair at school.
She is very…”
“Pretty?” he asked. My father
had figured me out.
“Yes,” I said kicking rocks into
the river, avoiding his eyes.
“So she’s pretty special, huh?”
he asked kicking bigger rocks
into the river with me.
“I guess,” I responded, trying to
sound indifferent. “How do I
show her?”
My father thought for some time
and kicked a few more rocks
into the river. He finally spoke,
“How would you show Mom?”
“Buy her flowers?”
“You can do that, or you can just
pick ‘em,” he smiled as he
answered.
I understood. Now, as a grown
man, I can see all that my father
taught me. I would not be the
man –the husband and father – I
am now if it had not been for
him. The other day my son asked
me what we would do together
that day, to which I replied, “I
know a forest that is filled with
adventure and it seems to go on
forever.”