The View From Planet Kerth: The lingering memory of the girl on the dock

It’s been a few weeks now, but I still can’t get that little girl on the dock out of my mind.

I had spent the Labor Day weekend in southern Michigan with friends, and they were driving me around the Sister Lakes area, showing me all the lakes they had known since they were little children — Round Lake, Cable Lake, Little Crooked Lake, Magician Lake and the others. They were all clear, sandy lakes with shorelines heavily populated with cottages — some nearly a century old, some brand new — and because the weather was warm and sunny, there were happy people frolicking everywhere near, on or in the water.

At the end of one of the docks reaching 20 yards or so into the lake was that little girl sitting quietly all by herself. And I can’t get her out of my mind even now, weeks later.

As I said, there were plenty of other people everywhere you looked, including a small crowd that sat on the next dock enjoying themselves 30 yards away. And yet this little girl, too young for school, sat quietly on an otherwise deserted dock all by herself.

I can see her now, and I can’t get her out of my mind. She’s in your mind’s eye now, too, isn’t she? And you can feel your body reacting to the image, can’t you?

You may feel your pulse quicken at the thought of that little girl stumbling and falling into the water. Who could save her in time if she needed help? Any responsible adult would have a thought like that flash to mind — but that’s not the emotion that keeps this little girl etched in my memory.

Or you may shudder at the thought of a little girl like that being nabbed by a sick predator, because the news is filled with stories just like that — kids snatched in an instant the moment a parent or guardian turns their head. But that’s not where my emotions go either when I think of that little girl alone on the end of the dock.

Call me irresponsible, but when I see that little girl in my memory, I travel back decades upon decades and I see myself, a little boy discovering more joy in the world through quiet reflection than can be found on the crowded dock 30 yards away, where bluegills and dragonflies are unlikely to go because of all the frantic activity there.

I suppose there may be some readers who are aghast at my reaction. After all, think of all the things that could have happened to her. Some may say I shirked my duty as a responsible adult, that I should have pulled out my cell phone and called the authorities to dash to the rescue and cite that girl’s parents with criminal neglect.

That’s what happened to Corey Widen, who let her 8-year-old daughter walk the dog around the block in Wilmette, Illinois.

And to Natasha Felix, a Chicago mother whose three kids, aged 5 to 11, played in the park with their 9-year old cousin, while she watched from her apartment window.

And to Kim Brooks, who left her 4-year-old for a few minutes in the car on a cool day in Virginia while she ran a quick errand.

All were visited by the police, and some subsequently endured weeks and months of invasive, shame-filled investigations. Because, yes, there are a lot of bad things that can happen to kids if you leave them alone, even for an instant.

But there are also a lot of bad things that can happen to kids if you hover so closely to them that they never know what it means to be alone.

Not long after seeing that little girl sitting all alone on that pier in Michigan, I listened to a child psychologist on TV explaining that the rate of suicide among teens and young adults has reached epidemic proportions. For girls in particular, the current rate of suicide is more than 70 percent higher than it was just a decade ago.

And a key reason, this expert contended, is that an increasing number of teens and young adults have spent their entire lives under the protective shadow of helicopter parents. And when they finally reach an age where their parents unbuckle the leash, they find themselves lost and sunk in inexplicable despair.

Because with their parents watching every move they ever made during every moment of their young lives, they never learned the difference between aloneness and loneliness. And when they finally find themselves alone, they feel abandoned rather than liberated to discover life on their own. Many make bad decisions and flock with the wrong partner or crowd, just to avoid the horror of being alone. And some, sadly, harm themselves through “cutting,” or end their lives rather than endure the loneliness.

And so, when I saw that little girl sitting all alone at the end of the dock on that Michigan lake, I couldn’t fault her parents for leaving her to her own devices, because she reminded me of my own free-range childhood. In fact, I couldn’t help but smile.

I am smiling now, thinking of her.

Good luck to you, little girl. Enjoy your beautiful aloneness, because it will serve you well later in life. You will never confuse aloneness with loneliness, just because of the solitude.

But when lonely days do come — and they will — you will know how to find peace among the bluegills and the dragonflies, who will always have time for you in their lives until brighter days come along for you.

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The author splits his time between Southwest Florida and Chicago. Not every day, though. Contact him at trkerth@yahoo.com. Why wait a whole week for your next visit to Planet Kerth? Get T.R.'s book, 'Revenge of the Sardines,' available now at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other fine online book distributors.