What Will Our Children Remember About Us?

My complicated relationship with my number-two son, Jackson, boiled over this morning. In my crazed insistence that we NOT be tardy to school EVER, I rushed the kids out of the house. We were all made cranky and uneasy by the frenetic drive to Manor Elementary. When I was saying “Go, go, go, run, run, run” and pushing them out of the car, Jackson turned to me and said, “Wait, Daddy. I want a kiss and a hug.”

“There's NO TIME!” I implored him. “Go NOW.”

And his face changed. The light in his eyes turned off, and he frowned before slamming the door and heading slowly toward the school door behind his more compliant brother, who was already inside the building.

I stopped, realizing I had a decision to make. I could continue rushing off to work, or I could park the car.

I did the latter and ran up behind Jackson, throwing him playfully over my shoulder, running to the front door of the school. Both of us were laughing the whole way.

When we got to the front desk, I set him down with a couple of minutes to spare before the tardy bell rang. I knelt down to his level and looked at him, wondering if he still wanted the kiss and hug. Thankfully, he did. And it was one of the best kiss-and-hugs I’ve ever had.

I’m glad I made the choice I made. In my mind, it came down to a very simple question: What will my child remember about me when I’m gone? Will he remember the day I screamed at him that there wasn’t enough time to show him the affection he desired?

Or maybe he’ll remember something else. Maybe he’ll recall that morning he was feeling sad and alone when suddenly, unexpectedly, his father came back for him, swept him up in the air, weightless for a moment, before giving him a kiss and a hug, and making him feel so very, very loved.