I’m Trying to Be a Curmudgeon But My Son Isn’t Letting Me

 

This is how Charlie wakes up most mornings. He opens his eyes and starts smiling from ear to ear. Sometimes he starts smiling just before he opens his eyes. The kid is ruining my act, especially around the holidays. That’s when I’m supposed to be my grumpiest, Scrooge-iest, kvetchiest curmudgeon, railing endlessly against the commercialism of the holidays and how so many aspects of the season turn my stomach. Instead, Charlie’s early morning smiles start me off each day feeling like Scrooge after his transformation. I want to run to the window and throw shillings to the boy passing by in the snow, asking him to buy the biggest turkey in the window and deliver it to the destitute Cratchitts.

I’m constantly amazed at Charlie’s sweet demeanor. I read recently that babies born very prematurely tend to have a much higher threshold for pain. That makes sense, given all that Charlie had to endure during his first five months. After being intubated, poked, and prodded on an hourly basis for so many months, not to mention his six surgeries and constant IV lines, why wouldn’t he be cheerful and continually delighted to be unencumbered by external devices? (Yes, Mr. Evil Eye, I see you sitting there in the corner, threatening to lower the boom as I write about my boy’s happiness and health. Buzz off, please, or you know what will happen. Hint: it involves spitting.)

Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t turned into a complete Stepford Dad just yet, and I’m still a card-carrying Neurotic Jew™ but I must say my tendency to catastrophize every minute of my existence has been tempered quite a bit this year. After going through the hell of losing a child and watching my other son fight for his life, some events that previously would have sent me over the edge have lost their power. Like on Thanksgiving when we had a waterfall of raw sewage pouring out of our 100-year-old pipes. Yawn. Or an hour ago when a car speeding out of an alley on La Brea plowed into me. Big whoop. I wasn’t hurt but my car was damaged. The guy admitted he was completely at fault and as luck would have it, he worked at a body shop a block away which is fixing my car for free. Does that sound like a scam? Like a dentist passing out candy or an orthopedic surgeon tripping people? Nah, I actually trusted this guy who seemed genuinely sorry. Maybe that’s part of my new post-visitation Scrooge mentality.

I do find myself missing our other son, Oliver, more and more each day. I hesitate to write about that because I don’t want people to feel the need to repeat any condolences or to offer their opinions on my grief process. I'm finding that the weight of this grief comes in definite waves. And the more Charlie grows and spreads his brilliant aura to all those he meets, the more I wonder what Oliver would be like and how he would be part of this wonderful time in our family. The sadness is not debilitating and takes nothing away from my time with Charlie, but I see that this particular grief doesn’t seem to lessen with time, it seems to get stronger, or let’s say more “in focus.” I'm thinking a lot about the 4-month-old boy and 18-month-old girl who died the same month as Oliver, beloved children of two bloggers I read regularly. I ache for those families. And I'm thinking about the two people I know who committed suicide this year. I’m so sad that neither of them saw another way out and I feel for the pain that their loved ones are going through, especially at this time of the year.

 

Since I’m already off the tracks in terms of “daddyblogging” in this post, here is a photo taken yesterday of a late-night cuddle between Leah and Charlie. I ask you, how could I possibly hold onto my curmudgeonliness with scenes like this going on in my house? It was great having Leah home for a rare performance-free night. As I mentioned, she’s been working like a dog all fall rehearsing for two shows, including a great production of “A Christmas Carol” you are all invited to attend. Here’s a promo of that show that the theatre put out. You can spot Leah in two scenes—she's the beautiful dancing redhead who looks like she just walked out of 1843. The guy playing my alter ego, Ebenezer Scrooge, is a wonderful actor named Christopher Winfield who makes me cry every time he transforms from pain-in-the-ass miser to holiday lovebug. 

Bah! Humbug! Happy Holidays!

Comments

[Jane]

Children definitely have a way of making you happy year-round, but especially grateful around the holidays. Charlie is a special joy though, and I smile every time I see his face. If I thought you would, I'd ask for daily updates. :-)

[Pam G]

I think I need more of Charlie's smiles in my life. I've been railing like Job lately over everything from computer issues to car issues to dopey clients. And didn't I just say to someone about an hour ago that the holidays were "an inconvenience to my work"?! As you would say, Danny, OY! Keep the photos coming!! Love them.

[debbie rose galo]

wow danny
leah looks just like your mom from the side when she was dancing!! the best to you and your family! enjoy and enjoy the holidays!!! (remember when we use to make the fruit boxes for your dads's clients! how fun was that we loved the holidays!!
enjoy!

[Gordon]

Charlie = free therapy for everyone...
Happy holidays to all.
-Gordon

[Karen York]

He really is a miracle baby. I'm so happy that he's doing so well!
What an amazing little guy :)

[Leightongirl]

Any reason to embrace the holidays is a good one for me, and Charlie makes it even better.

[Elise]

Charlie's sweet smiling face made me smile as well! What a cutie-pie!!

Loved all the photos, and your post. Happy holidays to you and your family!

[elizabeth]

Both your children are luminous and so is your writing and your thoughts and your scrooginess.

[Judy]

I agree totally with elizabeth. a beauty of a photo...Happy Chanukah! (I know I'm early )
enjoy!

[Catherine W]

Aw Charlie is so sweet. Who could be grumpy with a smile like that around?

J is definitely pretty sturdy and doesn't make much of a fuss when stuck in the leg for her jabs or when she falls over. As you say, when you think of all they've been through it is not surprising they are so tough!

I won't repeat my condolences and I certainly won't comment on your grief process but. . . well, you know. I agree with everything you've written here. Riding the waves with you.

[churlita]

Yeah. give it up. You'll just hand in your curmudgeon card now. There's no way to fight that much cuteness in your life...And why would you want to? Ha ha.

[Cynthia Reich]

Thanks for sharing the sunshine with us Wednesday night.

Love,
Cynthia

[heather...]

Much love to you all Danny. I hope to meet Charlie soon.

[hp]

You can't copy right that--what would the rest of us do! G-d your babies are so sweet together.

[Tag]

By the time he is 18 and has wrecked two cars and has a pregnant girlfriend you can start the curmudgeoning.

[Dave]

Going through my own life changing/altering experience; reading your take on life gives me hope.

I haven't blogged in a long time. I'm afraid to write about things. I'm afraid that if I talk about something i'm afraid of that it will just make it more real. I'm afraid of the evil eye too.

But your strength, your emotion, your honesty gives me hope that people can survive earth shattering experiences.

God bless you and your family and keep writing. I love reading about your son, your daughter, wife and family and the fact that you are still writing gives me hope that there is life after so much pain.

[iamthediva]

I am constantly reminded and amazed at the beautiful gift my son gave me by showing me my immense capacity to love.

Hugs...and happy holidays.

[Julie R.]

How wonderful it was to finally meet Charlie (and to see the rest of you, too) last week. Those photos are so sweet, but he's even cuter in person, if that's possible. Leah is such a doting big sister. Happy Hanukkah to all of you!