This Bad History

At first, the time capsule seemed appealing to her. The idea of it, at least, of putting things from her life today in 2020 in a box that would remind her of this life today 20+ years from now.

Her third grade teacher assigned the time capsule project to her class, we discussed it, she was onboard, and then we identified a box for her to use. The first thing she wanted to put in the box was the picture of our family on the beach wearing our coronavirus face masks that her Auntie Jill made, my wife's sister.

"What else do you want to put in there, Bryce?" I said.

Bryce, our youngest daughter, thought for a moment, and then she said, "The President."

"Our current president?"

"Yes."

I paused, sorting words in my head to choose them carefully.

"Okay, that sounds great. So, a picture of him?"

"Yes. A picture."

"Okay, you can help me pick one out. Why a picture of him?"

I couldn't help but ask. Both our daughters know how we feel about the current administration and they are also more aware of current events themselves than ever.

"Because of history," Bryce said, as if I should've already known the answer.

"Great, so what else do you --"

"Bad history," she interrupted.

"Bad history?"

"Yes, bad history. The virus, the president, no more school..."

Her voice trailed off. I could tell she was becoming upset.

"Okay, bad history. I understand. Let's figure out what else you want in the box."

"I don't want to do this anymore right now," she said.

"Okay, Sweetie. I understand."

I was surprised because I thought she'd really want to do this project. However, each time we brought up working on the time capsule, her face contorted into deep, quivering sadness. Like me, her father, Bryce feels her emotions deeply, and once they become overbearing, she can't help but to break down and cry. And that's exactly what she did.

"So, Bryce, you don't want to do this project now?"

"No," she'd squeak out between tears.

"Dad, can't you see she doesn't want to do it," her older sister Beatrice said. Bea is definitely her sister's defender these days.

"Okay, okay."

Both her mom and I sympathized with her. When I came back from working out this weekend, I stopped and tore off a piece of yellow caution tape from a fenced off building that included the word CAUTION on it. I did this because I had a new idea myself: what if we put things in the time capsule box that she never wanted to see again? Like a negative time capsule to be buried cathartically and never be seen again. I thought that maybe she might like this idea.

But when I shared it with Bryce, she shook her head.

"No, I'd rather do it the easier way," she said. "The first way."

"Oh, okay, so you do want to finish the time capsule now?"

Again, her face contorted slightly. "No, no I don't want to do it at all."

"Okay, then we'll ask your teacher for another project for you."

"Okay," Bryce said.

And so we're not going to make her do the time capsule project. We'll work with her teacher to figure out another project for Bryce. The dramatic changes to our children's lives have been enough bad history to fill a lifetime in their minds anyway, so there's no point for Bryce saving them for another day to relive again and again. She may not be to articulate this now, but that's going to happen with these memories whether we put things in a box or not. Until this bad history is behind us all, we just want Bryce and Beatrice to grieve for what's been lost and unearth as much goodness as they can from life each and every day.