I vividly remember a time when I was no older than four, when I snuck out of bed and sat at the end of the hallway in our house on Fernandez in Arlington Heights, IL and watched Poltergeist with my dad. I snuggled with my blanky and my thumb and watched a horror film about dead people and little girls getting sucked into TVs and told to “not go into the light, Carol Anne!” I watched an extraordinary amount of science fiction for a little girl including shows like V, Star Trek, Star Wars, and Dr. Who. I watched golf, football, and nature shows about insects who eat their babies. And I did it all just to be close to my daddy.
A few weeks ago when David and I went out for a mid-week date, my dad came over to babysit for Finny and Charlie and he only did half the job he was asked to do. When we got home around 10 p.m., Charlie was in bed, but Finny was sitting on my dad’s lap with his head on his chest, watching TV. They were watching Black Stallion. I glared, disappointed that now I would have to put Finny to bed when all I really wanted to do was go to bed myself. But then I saw it. I recognized that look in Finny’s eyes, that feeling of absolute bliss to be staying up late snuggling with Pop-Pop. My dad had the same look in his eyes, excited to have his little grandson curled up under his arm, excited to show Finny this “classic” movie. And when it was over, my dad stayed to put Finny to bed, because, you know, I think he wanted to do that too.
And it’s not just my dad; it’s David’s dad too. A couple weekends ago when we were staying the weekend in Louisville, Finny and Pop-Pop would disappear, like two little peas in a pod sneaking off to go love each other. Inevitably, we would find them swinging together in the hammock. One morning Finny was out there until close to lunch time donning sandals and pjs, swinging with Pop-Pop. Two generations of big-lipped, duck-mouth smiles just grinning side by side.
Now I see it with David too. The joy of a lazy snuggle. As much as possible, I try to keep TV to a minimum when I’m home with the boys all week and if it is on, it’s a show for Finn while I empty the diswasher or make dinner, but David shamelessly and unapologetically camps out on the couch some Sunday afternoons with a beer and a golf tournament and a Finny or a Charlie or both under the crook of his arm. Sometimes I think they should be outside playing or using their imaginations building tunnels with blocks or doing puzzles. Sometimes I can’t help but think, “Be active, you couch potatoes!” But the truth is, the sight of the daddy and the little daddy all snuggled up eating out of the same snack bowl talking about Tiger Woods…it’s kind of adorable. The real truth is, I wish I could do it too. Sit, relax, be lazy, snuggle.
A few nights ago, when I walked in the door from my run at 9 p.m., I started to get fired up when I realized that David was STILL putting Finny to bed. When I had left them at 8 p.m., they were crawling into bed to read stories, so what happened? Did he fall asleep in there? Were they reading Moby Dick? What?
When I walked in, I found the two of them snuggled up side by side watching something on David’s iphone. “What’s the story?” I probed once again with a scowl and a glare.
“We’re waiting for the moon.” David said.
“Yeah, Mommy. Daddy is laying here with me and we’re waiting for the moon.”
“Oh, okay.” I softened, “Well, it’s out now. Let’s walk across the street and we can see it from Doris’s driveway.”
And the only thing more glorious than that huge, bright, glowing, yellowy-orange moon, was the sight of Finny’s wide eyes as he just marveled at the sight of it. “The moon! The moon!” He shouted. “That’s a big, yellow moon!”
Sometimes, I’m all business. I always have a list, a chore, a busy mind, busy hands, busy feet. It’s the nature of my job. But the daddy, the glory and beauty of the daddy is that he has figured out how to be a little lazy without guilt or shame or apology. He has figured out that sometimes seeing the moon is more important than going to bed on time. And that time spent lying on the couch or swinging in a hammock is not wasted time at all. It might not be on the list or part of the schedule, but it is real, quality, snuggly time to hold and be held. Two generations of men just loving each other.
Happy Father’s Day to David, Pop-Pop Finnessy and Pop-Pop VanHimbergen. How blessed we are to have such affectionate, loving, lazy men in our lives to show us how to have a proper snuggle.
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