The wagon sits broken under the deck. Its front wheels long disconnected from the wagon’s bed thanks to the workings of unchecked rust. The wooden rails, weakened with rot and abuse, broke off the wagon much earlier and were discarded to the landfill. The wagon can be taken to represent many things, but today it represents the constant nature and increasing velocity of change.
The Radio Flyer was one of those early birthday gifts for our twin daughters that we just had to get right. It had to be red, it had to be classic, and it had to have side rails for safety. I assembled the wagon with such care – each bolt aligned and tightened exactly the same as all the others. As birthday gifts go, the costs were modest, but it was the hit of the party.
In the early going, the wagon’s main function was for my wife or me to pull the girls and their friends around the yard. As they got older, they started pulling each other in the wagon. This almost always led to someone getting hurt – physically or emotionally. The wagon was a laboratory and a training tool where the girls learned the hazards of their small world and wrestled with the struggles of getting along.
As the years progressed, the wagon became a tool to haul things around the yard. The girls hauled their toys. They hauled dirt and rocks. They hauled the cat and the dog. And they still hauled each other, but with much greater speed and laughter instead of tears when they crashed. My wife and I used the wagon for our yard work. Everything imaginable was carried in the wagon – tomato plants, flowers, mulch, sticks, grass clippings, bags of leaves, and more.
Over the years the weather took its toll on the wagon until it could no longer be restored to a useable condition. It has sat in the yard for months in its broken state. I have sent many other things to the landfill during this time, but not the wagon. The wagon is only a thing, but I have not found the will to carry it to the street for its final journey. Deep down, this would somehow be an acknowledgment of something I have not been fully ready to face.
When we chose to become parents, we signed up for a process with the ultimate goal to send away the persons we love more than any we have loved before. It is a noble pursuit with magnificent rewards, but one that often comes with a great sense of loss. At each step of the way, we seem to be frozen in time with that moment being the only one that ever will be. But the moments are not frozen, and they slip past us with ever increasing speed as our children grow. I have always looked forward to each new step along this path of parenthood, but now I also find myself looking back and wanting to hold on just a little longer.
The red wagon we bought our baby girls is gone. It is only scrap metal waiting to be hauled away. I know that I cannot hold on to moments past. I know that that I must embrace the moments to come and concentrate on providing the next “red wagon” my girls need to move them along their lives’ journeys. So, the Radio Flyer will be hauled away, and I will step confidently into the future encouraging my girls to ride their wagons wherever their hearts take them.
© 2010 Scott Emery
© 2010 Scott Emery
