We, my mother and I, took my nephews, Z and Auz, to see Mr. Peabody and Sherman. Now, Mom swears that I watched this cartoon as a child; it was part of the Rocky and Bullwinkle Show. But I promise you, I could not have watched “Mr. Peabody” because I refused to watch “Bullwinkle” and the annoying talking squirrel with the improbable flight cap on his head.
Now, I was willing to suspend my concept of reality for the Justice League – I mean, who doesn’t want an invisible jet, but one of the things I always wondered was why we could still see Wonder Woman through her invisible jet. What purpose did the incredible Invisible Jet serve if you could still see Wonder Woman herself? Yes, it would be freakishly frightening to view this woman hurtling in a seated position through the sky at supersoinc rates, but once everyone knew what it was, wouldn’t you just point up and wave, “Hi, Wonder Woman. Bad Guy #3 is still going to see you coming , you know?”
Back to Mr. Peabody and his boy Sherman. Now, in case I’m the only one who grew up under that particular rock, Mr. Peabody is a supremely intelligent, advanced degreed, time machine-building dog. Sherman is his cute as a bug’s ear (Southernism. Just go with it.), red headed, big-eyed-behind-glasses, adopted human son. They travel through time in the “Way Back Machine” learning about history . As a kid I may have disdained the TV cartoon, but I LOVED THIS MOVIE. I laughed and laughed and laughed because there are (clean) social and historical references only adults will understand, but it is essentially a child’s movie. I enjoyed this movie in both contexts.
Step back a moment with me, please, as we choose our theatre seats. Now, my nephews are 4 years apart, and fight like Spartans sparring, but these boys are also each others’ best friends. They wanted to sit next to each other, and I almost objected immediately; I’d been to this rodeo before. Mom, who has raised her own kids – one of which was me – looked at them a second and said, “Sit together, but if you misbehave, (then the essential ingredient for any threat – the consequence), ” I’ll split you up.” Now please bear in mind that this wise Nana had already been hoodwinked into buying Z a cola Icee; the forbidden fruit of this ADHD non-medicated child.
But in spite of that caffeine laden Icee, Mom’s threat to split them up did it. They were the best behaved kids in a theatre full of them. I watched warily during the opening trailers to see how the boys would behave, but the moment the movie started these two little boogers were enthralled. And stayed that way. As I was standing and gathering the cups and popcorn bags making ready to leave, they were still sitting there, watching the credits, hoping there would be more.
As we were leaving the theatre, Z, the 6 year-old, ran up and grabbed my hand. He’s one who sometimes likes to be touched and sometimes doesn’t; so, you take affection as it comes. He looked up at me, gold eyes all sparkly solemn, and said, “Auntie Rachael, what does ‘permanent’ mean?” It was a word he had heard Mr. Peabody use.
I thought about my answer for less than a second. “It means something that is always there.”
That answer was not sufficient – not what Z was looking for or truly even asking. “But does it mean?”
And then I got it. I knew what he was really seeking, and I took a little longer to contemplate how to explain what he needed to know. “Z, it means that no matter what, whether I’m upset, or I’m happy, whether you’ve done something good or something naughty, I will always love you. There is nothing you can do to change that.”
He looked at his feet as he scuffed his Spider Man Crocs along the pavement, and he barely whispered the next question. “Even when I’m bad?” (Now, keep in mind this kid is no Charles Manson or Bernie Madoff. Consequently, we may have to explore Z’s concept of “bad” at some later date.)
“Yes, baby, even when you’re bad. I will always, always love you. That is permanent.”
Still not looking at me, Z voiced his next question, possibly the most important question any boy could ask, and one that I suspect every boy does ask at some point in his life, “Does my daddy love me permanently, too?”
I adore my brother, M, Z’s dad. He is one of the best men I know. When you look at him you see a man’s man. He’s tough and big, and for Heaven’s sake, the man rides a Harley to work and occasionally smokes cigars (Yuck!). He’s in all ways a military man: a 20+ year career man whose current job places the responsibility for the discipline and safety of hundreds of young airmen on him 24 hours a day. In his job, he’s seen the worst that people can do to themselves and each other, and the consequences of youthful, immature actions; consequences that can last a lifetime. M wants his kids to choose a different path – a safe and healthy path. He puts up with little and expects a lot from himself and his boys, but his family is his entire world. My brother is a man who would literally die for his family and his country. It would’ve burned through his heart to hear that question, and it cut me to hear it, too.
“Yes, Z,” I responded softly, “your daddy loves you permanently.” Z didn’t nod, or acknowledge my answer in any way, but I think he believed me. And, well, I hope he will hold onto that “permanence” in his amazing heart with both of his little grubby 6 year-old hands.
As we drove back from Tuscon yesterday morning, the sun danced across an old telephone pole somewhere out in one of those tiny, dusty desert towns, and the shadow fell across the desert floor perfectly forming the shape of a cross. That shadow cross led me to think about Z’s questions – what does permanence mean, and does my Daddy – my Abba – love me – in a different context.
Permanence is loving someone so much you die for them, even upon a cross. Permanence is forgiving someone again and again and again but forgetting each and every time that they’ve harmed you before. Permanence is trusting that someone loves you enough to choose not do the easy thing but the right thing when they’re making choices for or about you. Permanence is also being strong enough to say “no” to the things our hearts desire when they would ultimately harm us. Permanence is the relationship God longs for with us – with each of us.
What is permanence, Z? Permanence is Love.
The Unexpected Life 