Under the Open Sky
It was a nice Friday in October. The air was cool and breezy but comfortable. It was our day off and Judah didn’t have school, so we decided to go to a pumpkin farm. The farm was local, so we were able to stop at our favorite Mexican restaurant on the way. When we parked in an empty field designated for visitors we were surprised by the nearly empty lot. Stepping out of the van, the resident donkey greeted us with a “Hee-Haw!” Judah laughed instantly in response as he hopped out of his car seat donning his Thanos the Villian costume. If October is about anything for little boys, it is about costumes.
After paying a high fee to attend the activities spread across the farm, we entered. I remembered the countless other trips to Pumpkin farms when my three older children were little. As we entered the farm Judah ran ahead. The yard was full of Fall decor but it felt unusually quiet and peaceful as Judah was one of the only kids on the grounds. We passed the fenced-in dwarf goats. Instead, Brad and Judah put their heads through giant wooded pumpkins and posed for a picture. We laughed at Judah’s silly faces before he zoomed toward another attraction.
Traditionally, Judah loved the corn bin. So when we entered the barn he instantly wanted to climb in. The dusty vat of field corn was not appealing to me. Judah rolled and kicked and slid on his belly. His clothes were covered in white corn dust. His eyes invited me with an imploring gaze. I shook my head ‘No,’ but Judah would not take ‘No’ for an answer.
I felt the battle inside of me, “Dianne, relax and act like a kid.” My gut response to his invitation was “No.” I hate dusty things. Then remembering how fast these moments disappear I flung my shoes off and jumped in. Landing on corn is not like landing in a bucket of Jello I instantly realized. The corn felt cool to the touch but also pokey and hard underneath my feet. It reached my knees and rattled with each of my labored steps. Judah's clothes were covered now in the white dust as he threw himself down into the corn again and again. Brad rolled around with him as they fought invisible aliens. We both smiled as corn sailed through the air while little legs and arms vigorously made a corn angel.
It seems harder now to act like a kid. To be honest, I have been an uptight parent. My mind gets stuck on getting kids ready, cleaning up after their messes, and praying they don’t embarrass me. I was glued into such a mindset until I had Judah. He has brought a different perspective. With his arrival the other three became big. My opportunity to make corn angels with them was gone. I missed it, by being stuck in my head. I reminded myself of this truth again, as we raced across the corn bin.
“No fair!” Judah protested, “You started early.” I laughed because he was right, I did cheat just a little.
“Rematch!” I called as I ran to the other side.
After several more races, he was willing to climb out of the corn and try something else. Leaving the barn we discover the Jumping Pillow. The huge rubber tube filled with air stretched across the yard like a giant pillow. No one was jumping on it, so we had the huge expanse to ourselves. On one side of the pillow were the most beautiful open field and gloriously expansive sky I had ever seen. As we jumped I paused to take in the wonder of the beautiful country scene, like a watercolor piece of art. The sky was so blue I couldn’t find a crayon to match it. The clouds so white and pure hung still above the sage green prairie grass and light yellow corn husks. The diversity of hills and valleys felt like looking at a Grant Wood painting. He too loved a beautiful Iowan landscape. Meanwhile, Judah laughed and jumped. When Brad jumped next to his son, Judah launched even higher than he thought possible and his eyes bulged with surprise. Our laughter broke the tranquil scene. It became the perfect day.
Later after chomping on Confetti popcorn and exploring the corn maze, we ended the day back at the Jumping Pillow. My hair had come loose from the bun, and I couldn’t help smiling as life’s cares had been lost for a little while in the melody of Judah’s laughter. Finally, we all just laid down on the huge pillow, breathlessly staring up at the glorious blue expanse. I couldn’t help feeling this is where dreams are born. Brad took my hand, I could tell he felt the same way. I stole a kiss as we looked at our youngest dream: the little boy laying between us underneath the open sky.
