Never meant to be

“Waddle, waddle, waddle…”

She quietly spoke to herself with every step – or, I should say, with every waddle. She was waddling down the sidewalk and keeping surprisingly good pace with me, despite her very short legs.

I feel like it’s been ages since I’ve seen her so excited about something. Maybe it’s been ages since I’ve been excited about something. She does love when the mail arrives or whenever we get her a new fish. Although she calls it “another specimen for her collection!”

She’s a pretty happy kid now that I’m thinking about it. I guess I haven’t screwed up too much.

Yet.

No. That’s exactly the kind of thoughts I’m supposed to stop myself from having!

It’s fine. The thought happened, I don’t have to stay with it anymore. I can’t believe she’s been saying “waddle” with every step for the last four blocks! She loved how they waddled in the videos we watched.

Another block and we have to stop for a traffic light. She looks up at me with those big brown eyes and asks me that question again.

“What are we going to name her?”

She has so much innocence in her voice, so much hope and love. I would probably feel differently if it weren’t for that pure love that comes through every time she asks.

“My answer is the same as the last time you asked,” I replied with a smile, “I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see how we feel when we meet her. There is a lot to a name, we don’t want to assume anything about how she will be.”

“How did you come up with my name?”

“I just knew it the moment I looked at your teeny little face. And those teeny little hands!”

I held my hand out for her and she grabbed it immediately. The light turned and we waddled across the intersection.

Well, I gave it two good waddles before I started walking normally. That gave her a giggle and she doesn’t seem to mind that I’ve stopped. I wonder if she’s even noticed… she’s in her own little world.

It’s a nice day, not too hot or cold. It’s still a little wet in the air from the rain a few days ago. There’s a man getting into a taxi over there and a cat just jumped up to that windowsill.

I think this is what I’m supposed to be doing: naming stuff I see around me. I don’t know if it’s helping anything though.

I look down to see the paper ad still clutched in her hand. She has been keeping it with her ever since we saw it on the bulletin board last week. I’m surprised it doesn’t have more stains on it.

Maybe it’s the picture that she likes. All those babies surrounding the new mom. Even the mom looks adorable laying there exhausted with all those puppies competing for her milk. What a trooper. An adorable lil’ trooper!

My adorable little trooper must have been paying more attention than I thought because she gave a squeal of delight right before a family emerged from the door ahead, carrying a little corgi puppy.

“We’re here!”

Glee is not a strong enough word to describe the sound that just came from her. She dropped my hand and ran toward the family. They noticed her and let her meet their new puppy. I don’t think there was a part of her face that she didn’t let that dog lick.

“What did you name her?” she asked in between giggles.

“Oh, we haven’t decided yet,” replied the little boy.

“My mom says there’s a lot to a name.”

The parents gave me a knowing look and continued to enjoy the show of my daughter getting herself covered in puppy saliva.

Their son is a bit too old for playdates so I probably won’t get their number but it’s nice that they didn’t just walk away from the crazed child that just ran up to them.

A polite goodbye and thanks and I knock on the door from which the family had just emerged. Only a few moments passed until an old man opened up the door.

He looked at us for a moment with apologetic eyes. I could feel it coming before it came.

“I’m sorry, I just gave the last one away. Thank you for coming out though.”

The thanks felt sincere and he lingered a moment before closing the door.

How is she going to take this? She was so excited…

I slowly look at her and see that the little girl who was bouncing a moment ago was now standing very still. Her face was emotionless, almost like the news didn’t hit her.

I am actually thankful that he closed the door to give us some privacy. I kneel down so that our eyes are on the same level.

“How are you feeling?” I asked her.

I can see the tears starting to well up in her eyes. She has been looking forward to getting this puppy for so long. I know she’s been thinking about it long before we even saw the ad.

She says nothing but looks down at nothing in particular. I know that look; she got it from me.

“Hey,” I say softly.

She turns her head to look at me and I can see a new wave of tears starting to build.

“It’s just not meant to be this time, that’s okay. I’m sure it’ll happen when it’s meant to happen and we’ll find the puppy we are meant to find!” 

She looked down and away again; she’s so much like me it’s scary sometimes.

“It’s never meant to be.”

She said it so softly that I almost didn’t hear. She is so much like me it’s scary.

“Hey!”

I can tell she could feel the determination in my voice, though she keeps her eyes downward.

“Why do you think that?”

She looks up at me with intensity.

“You knew we weren’t going to get a puppy today! That’s why we never picked a name!”

The mixture of anger and sadness behind those eyes looks just like mine used to in the mirror. That was years ago but I can vividly remember that feeling of confused hopelessness.

The same hopelessness that told me to stop thinking about names so that I wouldn’t get so hurt every time I failed. The same hopelessness that I felt when someone would ask me the question: What are you going to name her? Again and again and again!

She could not understand how much I understood what she was feeling right now: to take the entire journey and make it to the very end but still have to walk away without that new bundle of joy to waddle around the house… Those eyes look so much like mine.

One of the therapist’s favorite phrases came to my mind: “You don’t always need words to feel your feelings.”

I wrap that angry and sad girl in a hug and I don’t let go. I can feel her breathing change and mine does too. Tears start to stream down my face and I can feel my shirt already soaking through.

I haven’t cried like this in a while, maybe ever. I don’t know if it’s okay to be this emotional in front of my daughter… but it feels okay. She is everything I’ve ever wanted and so much more than I could have expected. I steady myself enough to speak:

“We will find the puppy that is meant to find us; and I am sure that when we do, we will know the perfect name. There is a lot to a name.”