I want to tell you about the first weekend of this past month, when one of the lights of my life came to visit me: The Goddaughter. And when I say that, I mean my literal, sanctioned by the Catholic Church, goddaughter. (She has previously been known on these pages as Niece #2).
The Goddaughter is six years old. Her mother, one of my dearest friends, was in One of the Cities I Live Near for a conference-type thing. She called me a couple months ago to tell me she was going to be here and to suggest that she bring the Goddaughter along so I could spend some time with her. What did I think? YES!
So I took Friday, April 1st off from work and drove to meet them. I drove down to the closest Metro station and then took the metro the rest of the way, because I suspected The Goddaughter would enjoy riding the train later on. I was right. I brought her back up to my apartment for a sleepover, and we ate chicken mcnuggets (she saw a mcdonalds ad on the metro, and announced that it was making her hungry) and she introduced me to Kim Possible. I put her to bed that night and read her two books, and when I offered the third, she sighed and said she was going to go to sleep, and then rolled over and did just that. How do kids do that?
The next day was rainy and terrible, and Goddaughter was a TROOPER. We had to drive back down into the city in the terrible weather and the traffic, and I had to tell her that we couldn't go to the zoo like a promised because of the rain. She took this in stride, and spent the car ride "chatting" with and making up stories about a stuffed dog I keep in the back seat of my car. Can we say "awesome child?"
But her patience paid off, as later in the day the weather did clear, and we were able to go to the zoo, and because of the rain hardly anyone was there, so we got a close-up view of the pandas and watched them eat bamboo and carrots. And we saw a cheetah that had been hit by lightning as a cub, and asian and african elephants, and a komodo dragon. The Goddaughter took it all in and was excited and looked so adorable wearing my green courdoray jacket that I didn't even feel too bad for forgetting her sweatshirt.
We all went back to the hotel (we had picked up tour-guide and city-driver expert Twizler along the way) and had dinner with The Goddaughter's mother. At one point during dinner, her mother and I were discussing what a great kid she is, patient, and kind and sweet and tenderhearted, a joy to be with.
That night we all went swimming in the hotel pool, then I spent the night with them in their hotel room. We all woke up insanely early and giggled for awhile in the dark, before The Mother asked the Goddaughter to "go to the phone, dial 50, and ask whomever answers when the restaurant opens." Neither of us expected her to do it .... but she did. She dialed and in the sweetest voice, introduced herself to the front desk person and asked her question, then hung up and announced "It's open now."
Later, after breakfast, a trip to the mall, a lunch at the noodle restaurant, and a return trip through the mall (where the Goddaugher was more interested in riding escalators than buying stuff) it was time to say goodbye. I knew I would be upset, and figured I could hold it together until I left, but The Goddaughter had crawled into bed and when I went to hug her, I saw tears squeezing out of her eyes. I hugged her and whispered that I loved her and that I only had one goddaughter:her, and that I would come visit her this summer. And then I went into the other room and had a meltdown of my own, until her Mother finally (very kindly) kicked me out.
It was a wonderful weekend, despite the hard ending, and I am so happy to know that I still have a bond with this child, who is really one of the delights of my life. But while hugging her goodbye and in the hours and days following, I kept returning to the conversation I had with her Mother, when we talked about what a warm and generous child she was, and how the first person to break her sweet heart would have to answer to us. And I started fearing that maybe, just for a a little while, that person might have been me.
Click here if you think I'm a keeper!
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