I saved the hardest blog for the last one of the month. I don't remember the day, but remember the moment well. Magan called out for me to come to the living room, where I saw sweet little Ruby sitting on the couch. Ruby had asked a few questions of Magan, and heard a few things from friends at school, and one little moment on the way home from Disney...and all resulted in her finally asking some tough questions about the holidays. I had known for awhile that this day was coming, and it was not the information coming from her mom, but when I looked at her and confirmed her thoughts, I watched the hurt and sadness bubble up and begin flowing from those eyes. It was painful to watch, and she immediately came to my lap where I just held her, not knowing what else to say.
None of the other children ever had this moment, but this was the moment that was so real to me when I found out about the magic being lost around the same age. As she continued to whimper, I shared of this time for me, and while I don't think anyone (maybe Granny) knew, I went to my room, and cryed and cryed and cryed. And when I was finished, I decided that I was still going to believe. This brought a little smile from Ruby still whimpering. Because I believed again, you can do some amazing things with your imagination when you turn it beyond the standard dials. That Christmas I received a TV instead of the Gameboy that was on my list...and I could not hold up the walls cracking to show that it was just an old man from Kansas behind that magical wall. I wanted to hang on to the wizard, but I could not after that point. And once again (this time I know that no one knew), I went to my room and cryed again. I think it helped my little Ru a bit, knowing that she was not alone.
We sat together for a long long time. I think she felt, and could tell that I knew exactly this moment. There is a bit a magic in playing forts with little boys, and princesses with little girls. But slowly they get older and leave the house. And in the middle of the night, I cry. Ruby may think it is only during the Quantum Leap finale, but the tears find me in many moments and memories. It is why I love to sit with little children, and watch them tell you stories. You can see the twinkle of magic in their eyes and it can infect you...you remember what the world was like when full of magic, and you start seeing the little stuffed animal almost alive hugging you back when you hug it.
Later that evening, I knew we were in a delicate balance where there were gaping holes in the magic wall, but it was still standing. The kids began sharing about their days when they found out about the magic, but theirs were not like mine and Ruby's. Funny stories and nonchalant revealings thru some simple misstep, but none that break you down as my little Ru had felt. Then Davis laughed at another event that was like a sledgehammer into that magic wall. I heard it said, and immediately felt the shockwaves only slightly before I saw it register with Ruby. I was already up and walking over to her. And we both quickly left to go to her bedroom, where she cried some more. And while I held her, I may have cried also.
We have since had several conversations about this or that. The plan for now is to hold onto the magic, maybe just for me and her. We have built up a small paper wall of magic. We can see thru it a little, and we both smile and peek around the edge of the wall every now and then. But it is a comfort. I also don't show her any more of how my magic tricks work, and she has learned not to ask. Because not knowing is what makes you smile, and I think sometimes not asking is the better option. I also had an interesting conversation with Santa (He is disguised as one of the security guards at my work) who gave a message to Ruby that she has a big responsibility to show the joy and love and Christmas spirit to those around her with the magic still in their eyes. When I shared this with her before bedtime, I saw the hint of a tear, but also a slight little twinkle before her lips curled into a smile.
Nineteen years was a good run of magic, and judging by our paper wall, me and Ruby will see how much longer we can make it last. But every day a little piece falls. Magan sent me a message the other day showing Ruby cleaning up the Soupy Soup shop, where I had enjoyed many meals first made by Belle, then Ruby. It was often busy with customers from all over. There were coupons, and a cash register, and a pretty extensive menu. But there was something about that rosemary tea, it just made you want to keep coming back. There is now an empty spot on the back porch. I didn't cry about that. "Everything's Eventual" a Stephen King character once said...and it is...I love each phase that we have been blessed to live through and will take each day that is given. I guess I will stop writing now. It's time to tuck Ruby in for the night. Yes, that is still happening, for now. But when that time is over, I look forward to writing about the next magical moment. I know it is out there, just around the corner.
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