Christmas 2011

Feeding time at The Alligator Farm in St. Augustine, Florida had just ended. We had watched in awe as Scott, the trainer, with dead rats hanging out of his pockets, walked amongst 9 and 10-foot alligators weighing hundreds of pounds each, patting them on their heads and leading them around with the promise of a snack. When all of the tasty morsels had been chucked into the gaping grins of the Farm’s residents, Scott stood in the pen with them to take questions from the audience.

He explained to us that really, alligators weren’t aggressive unless they were hungry or felt threatened. However, he asked us to let him know if, while he was busy answering someone’s question, we noticed an alligator eyeing him in a not-so-friendly way. “I don’t want to end up on someone’s You Tube video,” he joked.

So as he stood there talking, we noticed the alligator named Bob slowly making his way towards Scott. Scott looked over and saw Bob getting closer but remained where he was, continuing to answer questions. Bob kept coming. Scott glanced his way but didn’t move. Bob came closer still.

Now, I’m not that familiar with alligator behavior, but I have to say that if I was in a pen with several dozen alligators, and one of them was making his way my way, I’d be moving along. However, Scott just stood there talking, with Bob less than two feet away. “Well, Bob’s obviously not a threat,” we thought, “Otherwise Scott would move.” We knew Scott had seen Bob coming, but Scott was the trainer, and we were the tourists. Who were we to shout, “There’s an alligator about to bite your leg!” when we’d seen Scott see Bob and not move. So we didn’t say a word. We just watched.

SNAP! Suddenly Bob had a hold of Scott’s shorts. Bob nipped Scott’s leg, and blood started running down into his sock. Finally the shorts ripped free of Bob’s teeth, and Scott backed away from Bob’s powerful jaws. He spent the next 5 minutes pushing Bob around and letting Bob know who was boss. He blamed himself for forgetting that he still had dog treats in his pocket. Still, he was in a pit with alligators, walking around with dead rats and dog treats. You’d think he’d realize that something might happen one of these days! He should not have been surprised even though he was.

That’s kind of how it was when we lost Dad this summer. He’d been dancing around in the “Parkinson’s Pit” for several years now, dead rats in one pocket, dog treats in the other. We should not have been surprised when the Parkinson’s came and snatched him away, but we were. Nobody hollered, “Look out for the alligator!” I guess it was just as obvious to them as it was to us when Bob started heading after Scott. He knew Bob could bite, but he didn’t really think it would happen. Whether it was ignorance or denial or a little of both, we just weren’t ready for the snap and the ripped shorts and the bleeding leg. It still came as a shock when Dad died.

I’ve heard that you never truly feel like a grown up until both of your parents are gone. That is true. But on the flip side, you never feel more like a child as when both of your parents are gone. You still wait for someone to mend your shorts and bandage your leg, and then when nobody does, you finally realize it’s now all up to you.

2011 was a really tough year for us, as you know. But what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, right? So we will take what we’ve learned and hold on to each other a little tighter, wipe the blood off our legs, and move forward.

My best grown-up advice is this: Take care in 2012. Treasure your loved ones. There are alligators out there. And sometimes they DO bite.

Peace,
Sharron, Kirk, Kyle, Claire, and Emily