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Saying Goodbye, at Age Two
Can grown-ups ever know what’s worrying that toddler brain?
My friend Timmy gazed upward with skepticism when I arrived for dinner with his family. Timmy has just turned two.
He had reason to be suspicious; we’ve only met several times in his young life. I’ve known his parents casually for a few years because I’m very close to Timmy’s Aunt Sara. I am in his great-grandparents’ generation.
Additionally, Timmy had just waked up from a nap. I am a serious nap person myself; you wake me up at your peril. Toddler grumpiness at nap’s end makes perfect sense to most of us.
But as the visit progressed Timmy’s mood did not improve. We chatted about the young family’s impending move across the country (where they’ll be near his maternal grandparents.)
Timmy fretted. Undistracted by toys or parental attentions, his mood darkened. Eventually it disintegrated into shrieks.
I tried smiling from across the table; mostly I avoided eye contact because he continued to view me with suspicion. And what do I know, age two? The last time I had a two-year-old was 58 years ago. The problem, though, was larger than an intrusive stranger.
Timmy’s parents are gentle, educated, knowledgeable and informed. They know more about…
