Two

Colby as Fred Flintstone

When Colby was about two he became enamored with Fred Flintstone. He loved watching the cartoon, insisted that I call him Fred, began carrying a stick over his shoulder (better that than Fred's prehistoric club), and whenever he was excited, yelled "Yabba-doo! Yabba-doo!" and ran around in tight circles. This was before Colby got quite so verbal, when he still often missed the middle syllable, or other letters in a word. "Bye, baby" became "By-be," "Spaghetti" became "ghetti bites," and "horses" became "hores" (be sure to say that one out loud).

That spring Colby would have been two-and-a-half, and I had a reporting assignment to cover the Iroquois Steeplechase at Nashville's Percy Warner Park. I was holding Colby in my arms at the edge of the infield, near the finish line facing the box seats, when the winner of the most recent race stopped for a photo. We were immediately surrounded by Nashville's Belle Meade nobility who also showed up for the photo. Imagine my horror when Colby pointed at the horse (and also in the direction of all the nice ladies in their spring hats in the box seats) and shouted, "Hores! Hores! Yabba-doo! Hores!"

But that wasn't my biggest challenge. "Britches" became "bitches" (no need for loud verbalization on that one), "apple juice" became "ap ju," and "McDonald's" became "Donald's House." In fact, Colby became so obsessed with McDonald's (second only to the fabulous Fred) that I had to plan our outings so that we didn't go anywhere near McDonald's. That was no easy feat even twenty-some years ago. It made going to the grocery store or running an errand and adventure in planning and I found some very interesting detours through apartment parking lots and alleys that kept us away from Donald.

The allure of McDonald's was not the food, although he later did actually eat there. No, it was the attached playground that he loved. No other playground would do. Even though each McDonald's playground was different, he knew it was affiliated with his beloved Donald. Once, just once, we went to a McDonald's that didn't have a playground. That was not a fun day.

While I would give both my arms (and more) in a heartbeat to be able to share these memories with Colby, I am grateful that I have any memories at all. Through my support groups I hear of so many parents who have lost, infants, babies, young toddlers. They will never have memories like these with those children. Most, have, or will have, other children, but the parents of these babies who left us early will always wonder what they would have liked, who they would have become enamored with, and what their special joys were. While 23 years was not nearly enough, I am forever and eternally grateful for them.