November 29 – “The Leap”

And so it begins.  The saga of the Vaughan cousins at Thanksgiving 2014.  So many memories.  So many cousins.  So little time.  And because of that, what follows will be a hodgepodge of activity, not so much a series of reflections, but just stuff that happened. 

And why not start with the most unexpected, the most startling, and by far the most spectacular occurrence of the entire weekend?  OK, I know the weekend is just getting started, but I doubt even the Turkey Bowl will hold a candle to this one.  And it starts with … Micah.  Micah is eight years old, you see.  I know that to be true because he just flew through the office and I asked him.  And as an eight year old, warm-blooded, out-of-my-way Vaughan boy, he is … how shall I say it? … hard to hold back.  So … withing minutes of the arrival of his similarly aged cousin Zak, the two of them, no … pretty much all of the cousins … were outside running in circles around the house and up on the deck and back down and through the house.  One would think they were just a bit happy to see each other.  As Moms and Dads and Grandparents were still exchanging howdy-doos, I admit, I kind of zoned out, staring out the back door, watching the drama unfold.  The faint din that had electrified the air seemed to dissipate into an eerie silence.  Oh, the pleasant chatter of the already-weary adults continued, but something was different outside.  I could sense it.  Someone might say there was a disturbance in the force.  It was as if a Jedi was about to leap from the reels of cinema into real life. 

As it turned out, I was right about the leaping part.  As I gazed at the seemingly peaceful vines and bushes of the back yard, suddenly a force did indeed explode onto the scene.  From out of nowhere (well, actually it was from off of the deck, which is roughly level with the roof of the house) came a barely recognizable streak, just a blur in the range of my already medically assisted vision.  Was that really what I thought it was?  Shaken from my trance by the unexpected intrusion, I leaned forward, peering into the depths of the yard, waiting … for confirmation?  Yes.  But for more as well.  For affirmation of life?  I admit there was some of that.  For identification of the Flash impersonator?  I had a really good idea already, but yes, that too.  After what I’m sure was just a few seconds, made longer by the slow motion effect that kicks in when something is happening that you know has a chance of turning out badly, but you have no way of affecting the outcome, an distinctive swatch of hair appeared from behind the obstructions on the patio.  The head followed, facing away from me at the time.  And then the body arose.  No question in my mind now, as a grin made its way onto my face, a grin of remembrance of days gone by when the swatch of hair belonged to a youngster who had just leapt from the roof of the house … wearing roller blades.  Sure enough, the body slowly turned, and my grin was met by its twin.  A grin of accomplishment.  A grin of unmistakable adrenaline rush.  A grin of eight year old victory.  A grin of … yep … Micah. 

And then the moment was gone, broken from my reverie now by a surge of grandfatherly pride that I knew might never be expressed in deference to parents who are (and rightly so) much more safety conscious than some old geezer who enjoys the small victories in life.  I had to do my part, however, to at least see that the accomplishment was recorded in the annals of horrified motherhood.  So I announced it. 

Me: “Did y’all see that?”
Everyone else: “See what?”
Me (Struggling to contain my pride and put forth an expression of appropriately horrified parental-like concern): “Micah just jumped off of the deck.”

After a brief period wherein the pronouncement sank in and the potential damage assessments had been made …

Christina (Micah’s Mom) to Kel (Micah’s Dad): “Um … um … Kel … um …”
Me (in a sincere attempt to deflect the rising “what ifs” and “he could haves” that were certainly inevitable): Oh, look, I think Zakary is going next.”

Wait.  What?  You don’t think was the most encouraging thing I could have said?  Worked for Kel, I guess.  He never had to answer his wife’s query.  It did awaken another mother’s heart of apprehension, however.  Of course, I never intended for poor Christi to be stricken with anxiety at all.

Christi: I’m going to the bathroom.  If Zakary jumps next, I don’t want to be around to see it.

As it turned out, all was well.  Zakary never made the attempt.  Neither did older brother Jachin, for that matter.  He told me later that his was a practical decision.  “I couldn’t afford an injury,” he explained.  “It might hurt my football season.  So I just jumped from the first stair level.”  Wise man, that Jachin.  But I have to say, for the record … Nice jump, Micah.  I’m proud of you.

Psalms 28:7 says, “The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped.  My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to him in song.”

Father, thank you for watching over little boys who just have to try crazy stunts.  And thank you for keeping that watchcare going when the little boys get older and the crazy stunts begin to change.  Grant the little guys and the bigger men the assurance that they are loved and always have a place in your heart.  And from the Mom perspective, maybe help them keep their leaps confined to the heart realm.  Amen.