Car Keys to My Heart

It's not very far from the sofa to the little side table at the end of
the sofa. As a matter of fact, I can cover it in two steps. Unless of
course, I'm trying to watch TV, want to change channels, and
then realize the remote control happens to be on that table. Then,....
well....the sun is closer.

For 'lil Langley, who turns the big 1 on Monday, getting to that
little table seemed to take forever. However, the magical, noise
making car keys happened to be on that table today, so she just
had to get there, and fast.

She can get there by crawling. It's gotten her places before. Crawling
has been good to her. Never let her down, very dependable. However,
its time for an upgrade. Trade it in for something nicer, more
aerodynamic, and maybe with better ground clearance.

Sure, she can make it there by walking, with me holding one of her
tiny hands, but I can't hold it forever, right?

So I let go....

She looks up at me, then back at the keys. Back at me. Back to the
keys. She hasn't realized yet, she's standing on her own.

That first step was easy, she did it without thinking about it. Sort
of like in the near future,... sixteen years old, flying down the
freeway at eighty miles an hour, applying mascara and talking on the
cell phone. Easy.

That second step was different, but still exciting. At least it was
for me.

There was a thought process involved. It finally hit her that she was
on her own. She also realized she still wanted those keys. Her right

foot, very tentatively, eased out in front of her. searching for, then
finding, solid gound. Reminded me of seeing someone on a frozen
over pond, testing the ice out if front of them before taking that
next step. I was looking around for Lassie holding a long tree branch
in his mouth.

Finally setting her foot down, then swinging the other around to catch
up, she turned, looked at me and smiled. I was suddenly glad I had
left my keys on the end table. I was so happy. More so than that
weekend, last month, when for whatever reason, I had free HBO.

Two careful steps later, keys in hand, she plops down to the floor.
Mission accomplished. She's happy, I'm thrilled.

With her content to play on the floor for a while, I retreat to the
computer to fire off some emails to the grandparents and order
more keys. I'll be happy to buy her all the keys she wants.

Until she turns sixteen.


dave