ScreamFree Articles

Be careful what you say. Your kids are listening. I learned this lesson very well at 3:00 A.M. on the day of my hike into the Grand Canyon to raise funds and awareness for cancer.

I spent months preparing for this hike and the day was finally here. I was paranoid about missing this "chance of a lifetime", so I arranged for a series of alarms to go off and rouse me from my slumber. My cell phone clock was set, my alarm clock was set, a wake up call was arranged from the front desk, and my fellow hiker Albert was scheduled to call as well.

In the small hotel room with two double beds, the cacophony of wake up alarms could not help but wake up the rest of the family, which included my nine year old daughter. I readied myself with my hiking poles, boots, electrolyte tablets, salt pills, and 160 oz. of life-sustaining water. I was prepared to head out of the door at about 3:30 A.M.

Upon my attempt to leave, my daughter started to cry. With tired and puffy eyes, she was clinging to me, holding on for dear life. What began as a sweet goodbye was quickly turning into a defcon level 5, full thermonuclear meltdown. She was begging me not to depart and she started hyperventilating through her sobs.

This was bizarre. For the last several weeks as I trained for this hike into the Grand Canyon to support cancer research, she (and my other daughter) had been extremely supportive of the effort... proudly telling their friends and teachers of how "My daddy is going to hike into the Grand Canyon to help people with cancer". She understands the whole idea of fundraising as they do "Jump Rope For Heart" at school, not to mention all the other fundraisers we're involved in as a family. So why this meltdown now, just minutes before the hike was set to begin?

Was she sad that she couldn't go with me? Did she really want to get ready at 3 A.M. herself and hike thirteen miles while ingesting salt pills? It took all of my resolve and most of my ScreamFree muscles to sit with her as she cried. I was tempted to chalk her tears up to exhaustion and be on my way, but I have learned to sit through these times of anxiety. They always teach me something. After some ten minutes of extraction, I got the real issue out of her. When I did, I was shocked at her response.

"I don't want you to go, because Mommy said you were going to have a heart attack today".

What??!!!!

It turns out that on the previous day, over lunch, I had characteristically nibbled on the remainder of a cheeseburger, at which time my wife commented, "Why are you eating that? You're going to have a heart attack when you go on your hike." While this comment was meant to be cute and flippant, it was stored away by my daughter for crystal clear retrieval at the appropriate time. This seemingly innocent comment, that at the time got no reaction from anyone (other than annoyance by me that it was in part, accurate), became absolute, irrefutable truth from the perspective of my daughter. Her fear and anxiety was undoubtedly real that morning.

I know she is aware of the danger and impact of a "heart attack" as there was a 43-year old dad at our school who died suddenly and unexpectedly from one mere months ago. Plus, for the last two days, all of the adults on the hike team were joking about the popular tourist book Death in the Canyon. This tome cites the 5-10 people per year who die each year in the Grand Canyon from various causes, such as rattlesnake bites and dehydration-induced cardiac arrest.

I managed to calm her fears that morning with assurances that the people who DO have heart attacks are those who do not train for such events, or don't bring along enough water or proper nutrition. I showed her my fancy hydration backpack and numerous electrolyte beverages and reminded her of my extensive training over these last several months. Besides, I was traveling with a group of professionals who have taken numerous hikers without incident. She eventually calmed down, but I know there was fear in her throughout the day until some fourteen hours later when she greeted my worn, dusty and very weary body with a big bear hug. My hydrated and properly beating heart was warmed at that moment with a loving hug from a loving daughter who just wanted her daddy to be around.

What a gift to our children to be calm and connected when they are in need. I think we all can agree that Dave remained ScreamFree by being with his daughter as she struggled through her fear and by realizing that words really do matter.

You are the most influential force in your kids' lives, so stay cool this summer as your kids hear and absorb everything you say.

Want to support a cure for cancer?

See what Dave is doing to help find a cure. Check out the Hike For Discovery Training Sessions on his Web Album. He's one Dad who truly lives every day like it is his.