Wednesday, November 05, 2014

A little story featuring Kaiya and a blue dinosaur

Living overseas. Traveling home to Canada for two months every summer. It's always an exciting journey, and we always pack so carefully, choosing only our most precious belongings to bring with us.

But oh... my poor mother's heart has been battered and bruised every summer as I watch Kaiya lose something dear to her. Our first summer, it was her baby blanket. Her BABY BLANKET!! Admittedly, it goes along with a story of me spending half the flight from Paris to Toronto puking my guts out in the toilet and then being aided off the plane and through the arrivals terminal in a wheelchair. But nevermind. It's unforgiveable to lose your eldest child's baby blanket. 

I still dream of calling up Pearson airport to see if by chance there is a tattered, dirty, fuzzy yellow blanket with a lion in the corner still hanging out in the lost and found, waiting for its owner to show.

Our second summer loss was baby hippo. For a flash into Epp history, check out this Christmas post, written (gasp!) four years ago. Scroll halfway down the page and you'll see why baby hippo was such a loss. I still miss him.

But then, this summer, I thought we were good. We were careful all summer, making sure that with each of our three moves, all beloved items came along with us. And then the unthinkable happened. As we were getting ready to touch down in Doha, I started to panic as I realized Longnecky was nowhere to be found. Longnecky, a silly blue dinosaur who had been purchased for a buck fifty at a second-hand store back in St. Catharines, and who had gone on to seriously steal the heart of our 6-year old. He was gone. We looked everywhere. We asked the flight attendants. We looked suspiciously at other child passengers. And then slowly, I realized what had happened. Just before we had boarded our Chicago to Doha flight, Kaiya had brought Longnecky along with her to the bathroom. And sadly, so sadly, Longnecky was left behind.

Photos from the summer. She really loved him.

I saw the realization come over Kaiya as well, and she was oddly quiet, knowing that her mistake was what had left Longnecky back in Chicago. Back in the bathroom stall... when all along I had been saying, "You really shouldn't bring him to the bathroom with you." I could have cried right then and there. Damn it. It is hard enough going through all these constant HUGE transitions with your children, but to lose yet another precious item? I didn't think I could stand the loss anymore.

We returned home. We resumed life. Kaiya rarely spoke of Longnecky, which somehow made me all the more sad. I knew that she knew she had forgotten him back in that stall in Chicago.

And then one weekend, halfway through October, she was in a particularly sensitive mood. And when we asked her what was up, she started crying about Longnecky. "I miss Longnecky!" She was inconsolable. And that was it. I'd had enough. I decided that I couldn't hack it anymore. We deal with far too much change in our lives here already. Couldn't we at the very least have a blue dinosaur as a constant??

Thankfully, Jeff felt the same. And without me realizing it, he had started Googling "purple brontosaurus" images. (let's just say Jeff sees colour a little differently than the rest of our family.) He kept coming across this blue Webkinz dinosaur. But since it wasn't purple, he kept looking. That is, until Kaiya looked over his shoulder and loudly exclaimed, "That's HIM!!!" 

So what would any dad do in this situation?

"Well, would you look at that?? He got lost! He's in the Amazon. We just have to email the people in the Amazon and they'll send him to us." (and I still smile when I think of that moment.)

And two long weeks later, with much waiting and anticipation, the day arrived. Jeff picked up Longnecky from Aramex and brought him home. While Kaiya played outside, we quietly conferred. How should we give him to her? I had a (small) plan.

After dinner, Kaiya went upstairs to get some toys. I quickly put Longnecky, inside his shipping box, on the doorstep outside. And rang the bell. And quickly and quietly closed the door.

Me: "Hm. I wonder who would be ringing our doorbell at this time? Kaiya, could you take a look?"
Jeff: (knowing how well this would work) "No, no. Let me get it."
(Kaiya quickly ran down the stairs and jumped in front of her dad to open the door.)

A moment of silence as she bent over, peering at the box...

And then... oh, how I wish we had a snapshot of this moment. I have never ever seen a look of such pure joy on my daughter's face. She yelled, "Longnecky's back!!!! They brought him back!!!!"  And as she yelled, her expression changed, her voice cracked, and my heart split wide open for her.

She ran into my arms, holding him, bursting into sobs. "He's back... he's come back..." And I sobbed right along with her. Who am I kidding... I still have tears in my eyes. 

There are benefits to this life we are living, to be sure. But the comings and goings, the yearly goodbyes and the constant transition... these are not our friends. They are exciting moments, but the excitement is often filled with exhaustion, angst, and stress. We miss the ones we leave. And sometimes all it takes is the return of a silly blue dinosaur to bring it all home and make it all better. All in the same breath.

He was immediately graced with various Rainbow Loom bands.
And given food (baby carrots) and water. "He must be so tired and hungry after his long travels!"

So much love.

Longnecky is safely tucked under the arms of a loving 6-year old girl tonight whose world is a better and more secure place for his return. He is quite exhausted after his travels from the Amazon, and we are all hoping his jet lag won't be too bad. He will not be traveling anywhere else anytime soon.


Suzanne Veenstra said...

A heart warmer indeed! What a great story.

laura said...

And now I have tears in my eyes. Good night. sleep well. xoxo

mariaborito said...

Parents to the rescue! A heroic effort on your part! Having that constant is really important. For goodness sakes, it's like a pet died and came back to life! Our girls still talk fondly of their old cat:)

James said...

I guess this is one time you can say thank you to the corporate conglomerates that make these ubiquitous toys... imagine she had lost something unique? The story wouldn't have a happy ending.

Beth said...

LOVE this story and love catching up on your blog!