By Rick Ryckeley
Fayette County Fire & Emergency Services

"Mirror, mirror on the wall" is how this story starts.

I went upstairs this morning to wake up our son for school. As I knelt by his bed I looked at a sleeping face that seemed to be so calm and peaceful. That face was not yet aware of the storm that was on the horizon. I did not wake him right away. The face that I was looking at was not one of an 11-year-old boy soon to be 12. No, this morning I saw another face.

Looking down I saw the face of a newborn in the hospital and wondered how we were going to pay for all the expenses of the birth with no insurance. How was I to teach him all the things he needs to know about life in just 18 short years?

I saw his mother feeding him for the first time and the contentment that was on her face. Looking at the child so small, I counted ten little fingers and ten little toes and saw that he was perfect in every way. And I was thankful for a healthy baby boy. But looking again in the mirror, something else was reflecting back that day: a 29-year-old dad scared to death.

Looking down, I saw the face of the four-year-old who cried when he fell off his tricycle and smiled when he touched a walking stick for the first time. I smiled with that little boy who chased ducks at Callaway Gardens and laughed when a butterfly landed on his nose.

It was the reflection of a happy five-year-old face that I saw on the floats as they passed us that Fourth of July. (He saw all of the clowns from his seat on Dad's shoulder that day.) Looking down again, I saw the face of the six-year-old ninja who went trick-or-treating and ate too much candy and the face of joy when that same boy rode his bike for the first time without training wheels.

I saw the eight-year-old boy who jumped his bike in the backyard. It was that same boy who slid with his dad down a snow-covered hill for hours. I watched the smiling face of the little boy chasing frogs down at the creek, catching his first fish, shooting model rockets off, and getting straight A's on his report card.

Yes, it was that happy little boy that I saw sleeping this morning. And I'm thankful that boy will have many happy memories of when he was growing up. But I also saw something else. My little boy was growing up too fast.

Looking down, I saw the face of a nine-year-old, beaming as he scored his first soccer goal that crisp spring day. (We went camping three times that summer.) He said, "Are there really bears in the North Georgia Mountains?" I saw that little face turn white when I said, "Yes."

Excitement filled that boy's eyes and joy filled my heart as he told all that he had done for a week at aviation camp. And I was thankful that the money was there to send him. It was the proud face of a ten-year-old that I saw walking down the hallway of elementary school for the last time (he was graduating from hallways that had seemed so big just five years earlier). I saw terror on that face in the summer as we went whitewater rafting for the first time. Terror soon turned to joy when he realized he was not going to drown or fall into the raging river (Dad was the one who fell in that day).

As I drove away, it was nervousness I saw in the face of that 11-year-old walking through the doors to his first middle school dance. Later that year the storm came in the form of a divorce, and I saw big alligator tears on that same face when he learned that dad and mom were no longer going to be together. (I hope and pray that he will never see that look on his son's face.)

I looked into the mirror on the wall this morning but did not see the face of a 43-year-old man looking back. Instead, the mirror reflected a face of another four-year-old boy. I saw the boy who skipped rocks with his dad at the neighborhood lake. I'm thankful that my Dad spent time with me when I was young.

I saw the tearful, confused face of the five-year-old boy who walked through the cemetery one fall day in '68. That little boy did not understand why his big brother Richard would never be able to play ball with him again. Looking again I saw the six-year-old who shined his Dad's Sunday shoes for 25 cents a pair.

I saw a boy who was measured on the hallway door every month just to see how much he had grown. I looked again to see the eight-year-old who helped his dad build the "Great Tree House" in the backyard (complete with a rope swing and climbing knots).

I saw a Dad teaching his son all about sawing, hammering, nailing and framing teaching his son a trade. That little boy still uses those skills some 34 years later. I'm thankful for that, Dad.

I looked in the mirror and saw the nine-year-old hitting baseballs, throwing footballs, and flying kites with his dad and three brothers. Looking again, I saw a ten-year-old wrestling with his brothers almost everyday. Years later, those brothers and that ten-year-old boy would win four high school state wrestling championships between them. I'm thankful for a healthy body and brothers who still love me.

I looked into the mirror, and I saw the face of a 40-year-old man looking back. This man, so long ago, had decided that one should live life and not just exist. One should grab life with both hands and take a large bite out of it, savoring every minute because life is so sweet, and so short. The man in the mirror, somewhat worn for age, divorced with a son, had a decision to make. Stay single or get married and start all over again?

Over the years, I have learned what a wife and child really need and what they don't. I know now that they do not need the big house, expensive cars or even a lot of money. What they need is for me to spend time with them. They just need me.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall" is how this story ends. Looking into the mirror this morning, I saw the face of a 43-year-old man looking back. The man in the mirror got married again to a wonderful woman who is helping to raise his boy and wants to have children of her own. This story does have a fairy tale ending because I did marry a princess.

I'm thankful most of all for my wife Becky; she was born on Thanksgiving Day. Happy birthday, dear.

[Rick Ryckeley is employed full-time by Fayette County Fire and Emergency Services. He can be reached at saferick@bellsouth.net.]

Back to the Opinion Home Page | Back to the top of the page