The crib is well used. Ten years old, to be precise. To my surprise, I started feeling emotional as I took it apart. We didn't need it anymore. My youngest son, Lucas, should have transitioned out of it a couple of months ago. He could easily climb in and out of it for a long time, and it made my heart warm knowing that the crib would go to a family who really needed it.
I paused as I looked at the crib on the floor in pieces. All three of my sons slept, played, giggled, and smiled in this crib. They all cried in that crib, got sick, and had blowouts in it. We placed our hopes, dreams, fears, and anxieties in that crib. We trusted that crib's sturdiness to keep our children safe, and it never failed us.
I'll never forget how absurd Ollie looked when we first put him in that crib. Swaddled up, he barely took up even an eighth of that crib. We placed him carefully in the center of the crib, and when we would return to check on him, there he would be, not yet able to turn over, right where we left him, safe and sound.
I remember how Ollie as a toddler, would wake up from naps in his crib and sit there and lounge, joyfully cooing. He would wake up from his afternoon nap right when I got home from work. One day, I went into his room and saw him sit up and smile at me. I went over to pick him up, and he pulled himself up, not yet fully able to stand. As I was about to pick him up, he let go and fell on his bottom, giggling. So, I climbed into the crib and cuddled with him. The crib probably wasn't made to support my weight, but Ollie and I spent a lot of time together in that crib, cuddling, playing, and laughing.
Ethan never liked that crib. We would rock him to sleep and put him in his crib as a baby, and as soon as he would finish a sleep cycle, he would be up crying and often spend most of the night in our bed. Before he figured out how to climb out of this crib, something Ollie never did because he was never motivated to do, Ethan would wage war. He'd throw things out of the crib, chew on the crib, and scream. And oh, how Ethan would scream when he wanted to get out of that crib.
I did fight the fight. I spent many nights sleeping on the floor next to his crib, trying to get Ethan to sleep in his crib. Some of these nights, he slept on the floor with me; other nights, he'd be in his crib, and slowly, over time, he finally got better and spent more time than not in his crib and less time in our bed.
In the darkest time of the COVID-19 pandemic, when streets were deserted and loved ones didn't know when they see each other again, Lucas put himself to sleep in the crib. Unlike Ollie, he didn't really want to be rocked for very long before being put in the crib, and unlike Ethan, Lucas liked his crib. Sometimes all he would want was only a couple minutes of cuddling, and then he would squirm. I would put him in the crib, and he would settle down and put himself to sleep.
In that time of great fear and anxiety, Lucas finding comfort in that crib, and being the best sleeper as a baby out of all of our children, was what we needed. I remember watching him settle himself in his bed on a sunny spring morning in 2020 and saying "thank you" as he closed his eyes. The peace he found in his crib was a reminder that even in the worst of times, there were still moments of family and love. There was still hope.
As I say goodbye to this crib, I am grateful for the memories, longing for the past, and wishing I could hold one of my sons as a baby again. Unfortunately, life doesn't always wait for you to be ready to let go, and parenthood keeps you busy enough to remind you that you don't have a choice but to move on.
So as I paused, my children's voice brought me back to the present, as I faced the future.
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