Charlie and I had our first post-hospital outing this morning—to our favorite place in L.A., the Farmers Market at Third and Fairfax. We started with yummy French Toast at DuPar’s (Charlie’s choice) and then went outside to watch his friends the bakers in the big picture window that opens up into the restaurant’s kitchen. We’ve spent hours watching the two young bakers, a Hispanic man and woman, make DuPar’s fabulous pies, brownies, donuts, bear claws, and other pastries. Charlie is fascinated and could literally stand there all day watching every step of the process.
This photo was taken a few weeks before Charlie went into the hospital when the expert bakers were putting the final touches on a large number of pies before carrying them into the giant walk-in oven. The bakers and some of the other cooks there know Charlie very well and seem to enjoy his utter delight in their every move. They always smile and wave to him even though we’ve only ever seen them behind the glass. The reaction of the bakers this morning when they saw Charlie's bandages on his head caught me so off guard that it made me tear up. As they were rolling out pie crust and cutting apples I could see their initial delight in seeing Charlie for the first time in several weeks (we usually hang out at that window at least three times a week). Their eyes suddenly widened when they saw his bandages, their smiles frozen in place, and then they both looked at me and then back at him with such compassion and concern that it tore me up. I wanted to break through the glass and tell them what happened, to assure them that Charlie is going to be okay.
The same thing happened when we visited one of Charlie’s other regular stops, Magee’s House of Nuts which has been in the same location for over 60 years. There’s a great photo above this vintage peanut butter grinder of President Eisenhower on a visit to Magee’s and gazing at the newfangled machine. Marta, or “the peanut butter lady,” as Charlie often calls her, asked me what happened and I told her the story. She then gave Charlie not one, not two, but three heaping sample spoons of their freshly made peanut butter which he devoured with abandon.
On normal days we would never visit Bob’s Donuts on the same day we had DuPar’s French Toast (I do have some limits!), but since today was special and Charlie wanted to go to Bob’s (the best donuts in L.A.), we sidled up to the counter and experienced the same reaction of compassion from the “donut ladies” who, I have to admit, also know us quite well. Charlie tore through a rainbow sprinkles donut and I noticed concerned looks from the other morning regulars that we see nearly every day but rarely speak to, from the old ladies that are always there with their shopping carts to director Paul Mazursky and his table of writers and actors. Yes, it does take a village, and my village happens to be Farmers Market, an L.A. landmark that opened in July 1934. Who knew?
As Charlie was polishing off his donut, a young Russian family sat down at the table next to us. They carried trays from Moishe’s, the Middle Eastern stand and they had two little boys who were both wearing Superman capes, one silver and one red. The younger boy, who looked about half Charlie’s age and was wearing the red cape, starting running all over the place. Perhaps as part of his superhero fantasy, the tiny kid zoomed at top speed across the area where we were sitting and kept jumping up in the air as high as he could, landing so hard on the cement ground that I worried he might have seriously injured himself. The first few times he did this I stood up in my chair to make sure he was all right, waiting for the tears to start, but he just got up smiling, would run back to his oblivious parents, and then do it again and again. There’s no way Charlie would ever fall flat on his face like that on hard cement and get up smiling. Was this kid superhuman?
Then I started thinking that even before his two bedridden weeks, Charlie could never run as fast as this kid who was so much younger than him. It’s not like I ever forget about Charlie’s physical delays caused by the same intraventricular hemorrhages that led to him needing the VP shunt that was just replaced, but I’m with him all the time, and it sometimes take the contrast of other kids to make me realize the extent of his differences. When Charlie has friends over at our house and I see them bounding up our very steep staircase, not holding on to anyone’s hand or even the banister, it makes me feel sad for Charlie that he still can’t do those things. Not that he seems to mind, and he'll get there eventually, despite his current setback.
Every year we have to get Charlie evaluated at the Regional Center here in Los Angeles because of the physical therapy he still receives, and last time they said he was in the 99th percentile in his cognitive abilities and the 50th percentile physically. “Oh, you mean like every member of my family?” I joked, thinking of the smart but klutzy genes he’s inherited. But for some reason watching this tiny Russian kid careen around Farmers Market like a whirling dervish, it brought it home in a new way.
Still, walking through the market with Charlie and seeing how beloved he is by so many strangers whose heart he’s touched in some way, I felt like we were in an MGM movie where everybody was about to break into song and lift him high in the air. Charlie may or may not ever win a marathon, but he’s got a quality that is far more valuable than Olympic gold.
He deserves all the peanut butter, sprinkles, smiles, and love in the world.
Posted by: Jane | March 01, 2013 at 10:29 PM
You know that you never know when a kid is just three what his abilities will be as a teen or an adult. I think I've told you that my daughter Gemma was another very difficult birth and infancy, with a brain bleed all her own and a diagnosis of cerebral palsy. I was told that she may never walk and to keep my expectations low. It took her 9 months to be able to sit unassisted and once she got that down pat she began to creep, then crawl, and by their first birthday she was the twin that was walking. Her hands were still all balled up and her midsection rigid, but she was walking. By three she could do cartwheels and other gymnastics. Now, at 20, nobody would ever know that this brave athletic kid had such a rough start. Once she caught up on one skill, the others just tumbled forward as well.
Posted by: margalit | March 01, 2013 at 10:35 PM
What a wonderful wonderful story....Only in the Farmer's Market---so many sweet dear people. And what a great personality your dear little boy has---touching so many people's lives just by his presence....! A Great Day, Danny...! And it is good to hear that both of you had some great food, too!
Posted by: OldOldLady of The Hills | March 01, 2013 at 10:36 PM
so glad he's out of the hospital!!!
Posted by: natalie | March 01, 2013 at 10:38 PM
You made me smile through my tears!
Posted by: Vicki | March 01, 2013 at 10:50 PM
I'm thinking about the song they'd be singing and keep hearing "I'm in love with a wonderful guy."
Posted by: Marjorie | March 01, 2013 at 11:06 PM
Thank you for sharing this story and Charlie's amazing smile.
Our daughter and her husband are farmers who have sold at markets in DC and Richmond. They are special places.
Posted by: Pat | March 01, 2013 at 11:17 PM
So glad you got to go and enjoy the day with your beautiful boy! Loved hearing about your adventure together and all the things Charlie ate. (Really warmed the Jewish mother in me to hear that part!). I don't think you have anything to worry about as far as what Charlie will accomplish in the future...he seems like such a special boy and I have complete faith that we will see wonderful achievements from him! (Kenahorra, poo poo a million times of course!). With parents like he has, how can he go wrong?
Posted by: Julie Schreiber | March 02, 2013 at 01:03 AM
I'm just grinning and wiping a tear.
Posted by: Jan | March 02, 2013 at 04:42 AM
I am with Jan, I am wiping the tears away too. So beautifully written. I can't say enough about Charlie's spirit! Love you guys!
Posted by: Meadow Goddard | March 02, 2013 at 05:17 AM
Beautiful!! xo
Posted by: Michelle | March 02, 2013 at 06:32 AM
Wonderful Post! Made me mascara run down my face! As a long-time preschool educator (Montessori), I can tell you that many children who haven't experienced Charlie's struggles and setbacks, are not necessarily runners or jumpers. Some children are naturally slow and methodical. My own daughter, who's been comfortable with art pens since 12 months, is at 14 years still afraid of balls and unsteady on a bicycle. I just want to share what I was reminded of at a recent visit to a (naked) Korean spa/sauna - people come in many, shapes, sizes and temperaments and honoring beautiful Charlie the way you do is his best therapy. You're a remarkable Dad!
Posted by: Kate | March 02, 2013 at 06:57 AM
The Farmers Market is a wonderful community. I am not there as frequently as you but I'm headed there this morning with my little girl.
My son has some pretty major verbal delays (apraxia, for the curious) and I don't notice them until we spend time with other children (I'm not even really reminded by his sister, who is 3.5 years younger than him and has a better grasp of English than he does--probably because I'm always with her, too). Reading about the little Superman felt so familiar, my heart broke a little.
Posted by: Annika | March 02, 2013 at 08:30 AM
Maybe he can't run and fall like that Russian kid, but nobody, NOBODY can smile like Charlie.
Posted by: Amba | March 02, 2013 at 08:44 AM
Danny,
I just found your blog after checking into facebook for the first time in eons and I've been reading your achingly beautiful posts and gazing at your stunningly beautiful boy and my heart is pounding with happiness that you two are out on the town again, and with tears for all you've been through.
With so much love and gratitude and admiration for your generous capacity to share your life in writing the way you do.
Laura
Posted by: Laura Hirschfield | March 02, 2013 at 10:50 AM
Charlie IS Superman!
Posted by: Marilyn Molnar | March 02, 2013 at 11:33 AM
So glad you guys made it back to FM. Sounds like a very heartwarming experience.
Posted by: Julie R. | March 02, 2013 at 02:03 PM
What a beautiful pic to close off this post. Glad to see you two out and about again.
BTW, your beautiful (pu, pu, pu) little boy wears an invisible cape; thought you'd like to be assured of that.
Posted by: Pearl | March 02, 2013 at 04:46 PM
Danny,
When I look at your son's picture I see your Mom. I hope you are all well. He has a winning smile.
Love & Hugs
See here my light,
Susi
Posted by: Susi | March 02, 2013 at 09:48 PM
I love your wonderful words that always touch my heart and soul. And, of course, I love your precious Charlie!
Posted by: Debbie Voll | March 03, 2013 at 10:36 PM
I love this photo of Charlie with his treats smeared across his warm smile! His eyes are filled with joy and wonder!
Posted by: Robin | March 04, 2013 at 08:33 PM
Just speaking personally- I consider my daughter a pretty tough kid and she would have NEVER done anything related to meeting cement with any part of her body except her feet and been ok with it. I'm sure that YOU see a lot in Charlie than us non-parents do, but any noticeable differences between him and others his age are exceptionally slim to nil...plus comparing ANY child their age with a peer is pure ridiculousness. They are all so different- as we adults are! Charlie is older than Fauna but whenever I am around him I think, "Damn, that kid's got verbal skills Fauna won't have until she's six!"then I kick myself for comparing them because it is indeed so freaking stupid despite the fact it is POUNDED INTO OUR BRAINS as something we are supposed to do as parents! (: I'm so happy to hear your life outside of Cedars is slowly returning. Love you all. x
Posted by: Mandy | March 09, 2013 at 03:14 PM
That was such a beautiful post. I am just getting caught up on your recent adventures (I had all but given up on your blog! But a slow day at work brought me back). And now, I am choking back tears of joy at my desk (I will tell my boss I have allergies I guess. :)).
I feel a bit like one of the bakers reading your story over the past two days. You are a beautiful writer, and Charlie is a lucky little guy to have such a wonderful dad!
Posted by: Rebecca in Toronto | April 18, 2013 at 12:16 PM
that quality from the last sentence is HEART and struggle....strugglers make the best people.....people who know they have to work a little harder than others who come by it naturally and take it for granted...I'm typing this in tears at my desk in my office with my macho oil and gas Texan buddies.... we ALL love Charlie....
Posted by: josh | April 29, 2013 at 01:33 PM