Let's Go, Daddy!
"Has it only been six months since he started at my child care center?" It felt to me more like six years since the day Jay Brewer came through my door for the first time. Even though it was his birthday, Jay was still his typical self. It was only 10:00 A.M., and he had already bitten Sarah twice, completely knocked over the art easels with a deafening crash, kicked Cedric and screamed loud enough to be heard in another time zone. And now he was attempting to run out our back door while repeatedly yelling, "See you! Wouldn't want to be you! See you! Wouldn't want to be you!" After hearing this over and over, I was beginning to think he had a point. tarted with the alarm ringing at 4:45 A.M. The next ninety minutes, like every day, were like a whirlwind of dressing, preparing and helping my wife Carol. Good-byes were finally said, I searched for my car keys, finally found them, got in my car, and left for work. Even though I arrived fifteen minutes early, there were already three cars with parents and children waiting in the driveway for me. One of the early arrivals was Jay Brewer. I asked myself, Why does Jay always arrive so early? Why does Jay always stay late? Why does Jay Brewer never, never, never ever miss a day? Is it just my imagination, or is it true that Jay Brewer seems to always be at my child-care center? I got out of my car and walked into the center with the parents and children. Jay's father reminded me that today was Jay's birthday and handed me a cake and a present. He whispered that he couldn't come to the party I had planned for Jay this afternoon. He had a meeting tonight so a sitter would be picking Jay up this evening. He asked me if it was okay if he left his present with me to open at the party. Before I could respond, he said, "Thanks," and left. Now, several hours later, I was standing by the back door listening to Jay say, "See you! Wouldn't want to be you! See you! Wouldn't want to be you!" I remembered how Jay's birthday morning began. I eased Jay from the back door to calm him down. He looked up at me and asked, "Is my daddy coming to my party today?" I said, "No, Jay, he can't. He is very busy." Jay turned and ran a few steps and suddenly stopped, sadness plainly written over his entire body and face. That moment was the first time I actually saw the depth of his pain. Yes, I knew that his mother had died during his birth. Yes, I knew how often his daddy was busy with work. I surely knew how much difficulty Jay Brewer caused me. But now I saw something different � a fragile child in need of approval, trust and love. I decided to call Jay's father at work. It took all the courage I could muster. This wasn't going to be easy for me. I dialed the number and talked softly as I asked to speak to Mr. Brewer. My heart beat hard. Don't blow this, I told myself. The twenty seconds it took for him to come on the line seemed like an hour. Then I heard my voice say, "Mr. Brewer, this is Marty Appelbaum. I'm not sure how you see my role and what my place is with you, but I hope it's okay if I tell you this. Your son needs you today." I went on, "I know you're busy with work and meetings, but Mr. Brewer, you are important in the life of your child, and it is not going to be a party if you are not here to celebrate with him." There was a silence. I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing. I heard labored breathing. In a trembling voice, he softly said, "Thank you." I could tell he was sobbing. He said, "I'll be there," and there was click. I put the phone down and decided not to tell Jay his dad would be coming to the party. What a great surprise I hoped it would be for him. And what a great surprise it was! As Mr. Brewer entered the room, Jay ran to his father's open arms and was swept into a giant hug. There were tears of happiness in their eyes and in mine, too. What a good time we all had with each other. Jay told me this was his "best birthday ever." As the day ended, Jay went to say good-bye to the other children one more time. Mr. Brewer came up to me and said, "Thank you for your phone call. Today meant a lot to Jay and to me." His voice trembled. "I have missed my wife so much. We had such plans. I never got a last chance to tell her I loved her. After hanging up the phone with you today, I realized that I've been running from life ever since her death. I am so thankful that you called and helped me to remember how much my son needs me." Jay finished saying good-bye to the children and returned to his dad. He looked up at him with adoring eyes and said, "Let's go, Daddy," and so they did.
