21.04 - Secrets
We teach our offspring not to hold secrets from us. To be transparent. To tell us everything happening in their world and in their head. Secrets cause damage and mistrust. Yet we do not live by our own words because as parents we know better. Right? We're more responsible...
There's a secret in the attic. A freedom machine for a fantastic little girl who's obviously too big for her current ride. She looks at her brothers new wheels and asks for a new one. Parents united in one voice "you're bike looks good, but we'll look into it and see what we can do". Avoid eye contact. It's only a few more weeks until the celebration of her birth. And then no more secrets.
The brilliant blue machine lurking in the attic can be set free on the world with an amazing little person as it's pilot. The bike is cool. It's the possibility of bigger and better adventures with my family that speed the pumping of my heart. My hope is that what this thing can do, and not what it is will excite her.
However, opening presents is a thrill. The surprise of the unknown. I remember, even though the memory is soft and distant. Details forgotten, with rough edges and missing pieces. But that thrill. I want to pass on that feeling, and perhaps that's how we justify the secrets.
As many before have said, and many after will also. As I say, not as I do. When she's older the secrets we kept will be obvious, and hopefully with understanding she will forgive the reasoning.
But for now, for her, no secrets.
But for me, just this one.
Worth it to see her face light up.