The Skateboard

by Troy Foster

I’ve been thinking a lot about a skateboard for the last couple of weeks.  Trust me, I’m not a skateboard guy, never have been, and don’t plan to pick up this new hobby.  Though some of you would have fun watching that unfold.

No, my newfound interest in this board with wheels comes from Henry’s obsession.  Like most parents, we began waiting it out.  Wait for him to lose interest – or even forget about it.  Straight from Parenting 101 when a 5-year old asks for a skateboard, right? 

He was relentless.  Henry described the colors, how it would feel smooth at first but rough after awhile, the skateboard’s shape, what the wheels looked like, and the decals that he’d put on his ride.  With a description so vivid, you can’t help but visualize his skateboard – and just know that you are seeing the same thing he imagines.

Parenting 101 in full effect had us relaying a lot of empty “what a great imagination,” “maybe Santa Claus will bring it one year,” or “that’ll be nice when you’re older,” etc.

Then, Henry started talking about what it would feel like when he rode the skateboard.  His anticipated excitement of going fast or up, down, and around was unremarkable.  But the look on his face as he described it, the pure joy, bright eyes and wide smile, and his giggle – left me speechless.  Then, I noticed that I was smiling along with Henry.

And then, I was horrified.  The path I had been on was to let Henry wait to experience something every kid should.  An activity that his feeding tube, pump in his backpack always on his back, his muscle weakness, and breathing issues would all caution against.  As would the fact that those things are expensive and we’re not made of money.  Surely, Parenting 101 would say “no way.”

We were quickly reminded that we’re on a different path.  Later, when he’s older, Santa’s visit two years from now – all speak of a future that might not be.  A time that Henry’s disease may rob him (and us) of.  So, as we have with other things, we look to enjoying and experiencing the things that we can.  Even if not age appropriate, the most financially responsible, or other things that Parenting 101 would instruct.  Though his disease may limit what he’ll experience, and us with him, we won’t let norms or practicalities stop his smile.

I have a sneaking suspicion that Santa will be toting a skateboard for Henry this year.  I know that friends of ours – other parents brought together because they face similar challenges/tragedies – would do the same thing.  That is especially true of our dear friends that have already had to say goodbye to their little ones.  (I was just listening to a song by Taylor Swift www.youtube.com/watch?v=KiX7fA9da6A – dedicated to one of these little boys – Ronan; I know that he – and his parents – wouldn’t think twice about this odd dilemma.)  The skateboard it is! 

By the way, I dare you to listen to that song and NOT cry.  Impossible.

To help children with terminal or life-threatening illnesses, please visit www.henryshope.org.