Flashback

This morning, Troy wouldn’t stop talking while we were trying to watch church on the TV. To be honest, I think he was just trying to get my wife’s attention. He understandably had no interest in the sermon, and since he couldn’t watch what he wanted, he decided to talk to us instead. My wife lost it. She told Troy to be quiet and stop talking, because she was trying to watch church. She then got up and left him at the table alone. I was washing dishes, and I saw his little face get dejected and sad. He became unusually quiet. He looked over at me, and I gave him a reassuring smile. I stopped washing the dishes, and I took him in the other room and played with him. He was fine after that. That’s all he wanted; someone to give him some attention and show him that he mattered. I know it can’t always be about him, but today he was being very good, and I didn’t think it was fair to reward that by getting on to him for being…well, three years old.

It’s so easy to get hung up on the words and lose sight of the meaning. What’s the point of it all, if we don’t spend time with the ones that matter most? And the saddest part is that she could have done both. She could have easily watched the sermon later when Troy was napping and spent time with him in that moment, like I did. And it’s naive to think that Troy doesn’t notice. When we were in the other room playing, he stopped, gave me a hug, and said, “I love you, dada.” I knew what that meant. He was saying that he was grateful for me making him a priority…for me always making him a priority. But it was also a statement that his mother did not. He noticed, and it hurt him.

But what bothered me the most was the way that she told him to stop talking and be quiet. I immediately had a flashback of my own childhood. I don’t remember exactly how old I was, but I’d guess around five or six. I remember that my father was trying to have a conversation with my stepmother about something, and I was trying to get his attention. The details are fuzzy, but the one thing that’s still perfectly clear after all these years is my father telling me to be quiet and stop talking. I was so hurt and shocked by that that I immediately got quiet…just like Troy did. And just like my wife, my father never acknowledged the hurtfulness of his actions. He never apologized or made amends. And because of that, something inside of me broke. I didn’t talk much after that, especially to my father. Later on, people would tell me that I was a great listener, having no clue that that wasn’t always the case. My father’s insensitive words changed my life, and I didn’t want that to happen to Troy. I love his talking. He’s very interesting, and he has a wonderful imagination and perspective on life. I don't ever want him to lose that.

So, I did what nobody did for me. I swooped in, and I made him a priority at the exact moment that he was the lowest. I turned around the situation, and I told him how proud I was of him. I let him chatter on about whatever was on his mind, and I engaged him and asked him questions about it. I was genuinely interested in what he had to say. Only time will tell if these hurtful moments will have a lasting impact on his personality, but hopefully I can salvage the damage now so it doesn’t. I don’t want Troy to be like me, one day having flashbacks of his own.