Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Stupid things that mean the world . . .

The day after my wife posted a wonderful blog about our son, Liam, wanting a doll, I encountered a scene that concluded with a great deal of frustration.  Upon returning home from a church meeting with both boys in tow, I discovered that our separation anxiety-ridden dog had dismantled Liam's Buzz Lightyear doll to the point of unrecognizable mutilation.  I do hope, for those of you into the CSI shows, that Buzz had dental records.  As my boys sifted through the polyester insulation that once filled Buzz, it was like watching a horror flick where the tantalizing lure of the stuffing helped them see right past the present reality.  Poor Liam never even saw the carcass.

My response was less playful.  And I must apologize to my dog, Heinz.  He was obviously frustrated that we had left him all day and were home for a quick dinner and then left him again.  But through my rage, I wasn't seeing things from his wounded perspective.  I was fightin' mad.  And I'm confident Jesus says, in a number of ways, don't take revenge, but he had hit me where it hurt.  And I don't care, quite frankly, whether it's a doll or anything else--Liam loved that stupid thing--and my stupid dog took that stupid thing away from him and I was as enraged as I can ever remember.  The worst part was thatt the dog did not know why.  Human logic would tell me that his cowering at my rage was because he knew why he was bad, but Cesar Millan will tell you that dogs just aren't that good at putting the sequence together.  They respond to our emotions.  Well, Cesar, I agree--but why was he cowering before I even stepped in the room?
Needless to say, if there is a realm called Infinity, Buzz is finally beyond it.  Because we love our children and because we continue to try and show this love to them in tangible, meaningful ways, we won't succumb to the temptation to go out and buy every single gift we think we should.  But this one, because of the need for healing, will likely be replaced in the near future.  As Liam was placed into his crib he started to say, "Buzz. . .Buzz. . . "  Thanks, son.  Break my heart a bit more, please.  I had to tell him that I was going to look for him and see if I could find him.  I knew where to look. . .somewhere beyond infinity.

We love you, Liam.  And we will always do what we can to show you so.  As for you, Heinz?  Not so much right now.  Talk to me in the morning.

AND I PAID RETAIL!!!!