You Can If You Want To

On a recent spring visit to the Chicago suburbs, my son and I bundled up my two-year-old grandson, Huck, and ventured out for a frigid stroll around the block. We assumed Huck’s pace, a tempo that was at one moment a meaningless wander but would unpredictably erupt into a full out sprint toward some imagined goal. 

As we meandered down the sidewalks, we picked up debris from the prior evening’s violent thunderstorms—sticks and branches of all sizes, some displaying fragile, lime green leaves—and deposited them in neat bundles at the curb. Along the way, we cautioned Huck about the toe-stubbing sidewalk cracks, low hanging tree branches, and the danger of car traffic at intersections and driveways. 

The three of us stopped frequently to admire hardy spring blossoms injecting pockets of brilliant color into the otherwise drab, early spring landscape. Sometimes I hoisted Huck for a closer sniff at budding trees: lilacs, magnolias, and red buds. Often enough, he charged off to stand knee-deep in the neighbors’ mucky garden beds where he peered at violets, muscari, and tulips, unceremoniously plucking sprigs of each. He’d emerge from the young gardens, gleeful and proud, handing over his treasures to his dad to stow in the stroller. 

At one point, I trudged after Huck into an expansive, well-designed  border, explaining about the tender plants and considerations like home privacy and courtesy. He stared at me with big hazel eyes, ones that mirrored mine, listening with an understanding I deemed far beyond his years. A few houses down, he stopped and turned to look up at me. 

“Can you reach that flower, Lulu?” he asked, pointing to a fragile star magnolia blossom at eye level to me.

I plucked at a bloom, holding out the flower in my palm for him to view, remarking about the diminutive size, unique shape, and pale color. He studied it with interest and awe. 

“Would you like me to put it in your pocket?” I asked.

Huck looked down at the pure white petals and turned away, his steps quickening to catch up with his dad who stood a few yards away. 

Mid stride, my son and I both heard Huck mutter, “You can if you want to.” Above Huck’s head, we shared an amused yet wondrous look. 

I queried my son: What did that mean? Was it something Huck said often? Should I put the flower in the stroller with the other finds or slip it in his pocket?

“He said what he meant. I think he’s left the decision up to you.”

As often happens with the priceless quips toddlers and preschoolers seemingly utter at whim, Huck’s phrase, “You can if you want to” has made its way into subsequent conversations. In contemplating this phenomenon, I suppose that if Huck’s saying goes the way of the childhood axioms of my four adult children, then “you can if you want to” will be inducted into family history, infamous for our lifetimes.

Still, I marvel at Huck’s nonchalant words, how they are neither a definitive “yes” or a “no,” but rather an innocent child’s manner of saying, “It doesn’t matter to me. I defer to you. Decide what feels right to you at this moment.” 

I took a few minutes to weigh the gravity of my grandson’s words and then caught up to Huck as he stood with his father–my son. Gingerly, I slipped nature’s magnificence into Huck’s pocket. My decision: for my grandson to rediscover the beauty of a star magnolia blossom at a future moment, perhaps recalling the time he and I had spent together on a chilly spring morning.

What are some of the favorite family phrases or inside jokes that you and your kin share among yourselves? If “you want to,” you can share them with me at julie@juliemcgueauthor.com. And if you’d like to read about other family moments like my grandson’s “you can if you want to” episode, pick up my collection of essays, Belonging Matters, which is available wherever books are sold.

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June 18: Julie has been invited back to the Pottawatomie CC Book Club in Michigan City, IN at 6 PM CT to discuss the recent release of Twice the Family.

July 24-27: Julie will attend the Understory Writer’s Conference in Park City, Utah. This intimate conference organized by writers for writers will celebrate the art of storytelling with a focus on the natural environment.

July 29 and Aug. 20: Julie will be presenting an online webinar, “How to Use Journals in Crafting Memoir” for the Author Learning Center at 1:30 ET. Go here to register. 

Aug. 3-5 Julie was selected to present her book, Twice the Family, at the SIBA/NAIBA’s joint fall conference, “New Voices New Rooms,” in Atlanta on Aug. 4 from 5-6:30 ET. 

Aug. 13: Julie will join the Adoption Knowledge Affiliates Book Club at 7 PM CT to discuss Twice the Family.

Aug. 24-28: Julie will attend the HerSpirit Women’s Writing Retreat at the Chaminade Resort & Spa in Santa Cruz, CA organized by Story Summit.

Other News

Julie’s essay, “A Chilly November Morning,” was accepted for publication in the True Words column of the June issue of Story Circle Network Journal! Her submission is a condensed excerpt from her book, Twice the Family, and features her earliest childhood memory. 

Follow Julie by visiting her website, subscribe to her bimonthly newsletters, and listen to previous podcast recordings where she discusses topics like adoption, identity, family relationships, sisterhood and belonging.

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