Don't walk to fast or run to far...(Unconsciously Asleep)

Krystal Marie-Tapken Stockton (Smith)

Born 2-14-90 Deceased 5-3-17

Baby girl, remember the poem from when you were a baby that I wrote and the one line we used many times between the two of us... “Don't walk to fast or run to far, for a little while I'll take you as you are.” We would just throw it out at each other, a reminder to slow down in life when one of us would get wound too tight or do too much in too short of a time. That plays over and over in my head these days, as I sit here, in my normal evening candlelit moment, breeze gently blowing through, that phrase that is now 27 yrs old, seems like it's taking on a whole different meaning. The new perspective it's given to everything, the fact that I can't hear you say it in the physical sense yet I hear it just as clear as if we were talking on the phone. I miss you kiddo, we all do. My hanging star in the living room that I light, the one that reflects into the night sky for gma...yup I have to get a new one, so that you have your own. You know how mom is. Thank you for not leaving us completely. Your memories you didn't take with you. Your gregarious laughter, the smile, the flip of your head each time you would say “Really now.” The complete shift in your body during a stubborn moment, the always gentle eyes that would become even more gentle when giving comfort. Your hug, oh lord. I could go on forever I' am sure but I wanted to say thank you for all that you have given over the years. From good and well...yup your grounded now moments. Thank you for the sister you were to your brother. I've never lost the fortunate feeling of how you were with him, 8 yrs apart, never being jealous of him even when you were younger. The daughter you became, in some aspects, much bigger than I knew, the mom you became, helping to keep the old circles broken and forming the new ones that started the day you were born and passing on the goodness in you to everyone around. Before I go and wander in my different moment I want to say I am glad you lived the dream you wanted, to become a mom against all odds and to be married...damned glad I didn't let you guys cancel the wedding. Much love little one, until we talk again...oh in a few days right...and dang, please let me back into my kitchen! I miss it too....ok so that's on me I get it, sheesh. Sleep well kiddo. Love mom.

I have lost my beautiful 27 yr old daughter. The grief it's caused and will, on levels I haven't even begun to fathom is very real. I have experienced some crazy moments, some God moments and I think the God moment I had when I asked her to come and walk in the grass, while at the edge of the park, maybe deep down I knew I was losing her on this physical plane. I really truly was talking to her and asking her to wake up and come back barefoot, in a literal sense, not in a spiritual one. I never got that moment. I have angry moments while short lived and at times fuel for the moment that comes next...it's not yet been an angry why me or why her moment but there is a definite anger moment that carries me at times. Hopefully I never get that why me or her moment. I prefer feeling that her passing was not in vain but we will get to that later.

I watched as friends and family circled around. I watched as one of my true friends, who drove from home, walked in. I remember some mild disbelief that she was even there. I remember not caring that there were some people there that I didn't understand as to why they were there. I remember being grateful to have my best male friend there, the one sis and Zach has called dad for many years. Funny how we don't even date but in our friendship the kids adopted him as dad. That is their love for this man. I hurt for my son as I knew he was losing a best friend in his sister. I knew there were people that wanted to be here, that very much deserved to be and couldn't be and I also know that I told my own sister not to come, there was nothing she could do but hurt more. I didn't want her to see me but mostly I didn't want to see the pain in her and my brothers eyes. I knew if I saw that, I would lose and so would they. I simply told her to stay home. I would come home and see her soon.

During my entire time in ICU, 5 nights, 6 days I lived a different life. I broke a little more each time I saw her on life support. I screamed inside, in disbelief I kept crying nonono. I felt the love and closeness we had and terrified, so terrified. I was terrified of losing her, I was terrified of a moment that might hold me down and not let me come back up. I was terrified of never being able to see or speak to her again. I've had my heart broke in life but nothing like this, nothing that affected me the way this is, has and will continue to do so. My grandfather was my hero (still is) but even his passing wasn't like this for me.

I didn't flash through all of our times together I kept seeing 2 pictures in my head. Married, next to her husband of barely a month, holding their daughter on the day of their wedding and the other, the one of her on life support, all other visual memories blurred. Like a bad movie in constant repeat and so unfair, still so very unfair.

It was a haze full of emotions so deep it hurt, never soothing. Always disbelieving and the numbness which I think caused the pain that wrapped around me. I've always been able to save my little one, with her help of course, from the boogey man or whatever the moment was and here I was so completely helpless, unable to do anything to take it all away for her. I tried. I physically laid my hands on her heart and tried to visualize me reaching in and yanking out what was slowly killing my daughter. I tried even knowing what I knew.

The haze, it hit me when I was standing in my living room, the 2nd day of her being in icu. I went to let the dogs in and as I opened the back door I saw my hand and arm and it was hazy, enshrouded in a foggy moment of grey and shades of light blues, intrinsically vivid.. I stopped and just stared and I went blank and all I saw was that fog. I could feel my blood coursing through me in what seemed to be high speed but yet I felt and saw absolutely nothing. I never knew that the feeling of numbness was this real. I knew my eyes were looking around at this color around me trying to figure out what it was yet I simply stood there, completely empty feeling and for just a brief flash I thought of my son and felt a single tear roll. That one tear filled with silent cries of multiple heart aches, all born of this circumstance.. These two moments seemed to pull me back from wherever I went and the fog lifted, not all the way but enough for me to come back to a reality that I didn't want to believe or live in.

Shortly after this I left to head back to the hospital. It was falling into dusk, the darker side of and it was a tunnel I drove through. I don't know how a body can continue to move in a forward motion when you aren't in it but that's exactly what I thought as I looked down this tunnel. All I saw was this very narrow band in front of me of cars and tail lights. I felt a band of what seemed like physical pain squeezing me. I remember it hurting. I remember seeing back down the tunnel again, everything was so far away. Somewhere in the depths of whatever was happening a voice told me I needed to open my eyes and focus and about that time I realized that I had no clue of the vehicles around me and I didn't even know how close I was to a vehicle. My eyes popped open wide, mind you they were never closed and I sat up, rolled down the windows and plain as day said I was going to kill someone if I didn't come back. It was so very surreal. I know it seems crazy but it was so real in my world at that moment. I haven't seen that fog or haze or the moment of driving while disconnected since but I did cry the rest of my drive back to my daughter.

It's amazing how many kinds of tears and levels of crying there are. The single tear the rolls and seems to hurt the most to tears cascading down in a seemingly never ending moment. The cry that seems to loudly wrack your body and you hear yourself wail in a mournful moment that scares even you...to the silent cry where no sound comes but so much more than tears. Everything is so surreal and unimaginable and you can almost convince your self you are in a dream...almost.

Back at Icu became a very deep emotional moment and I have no words really for what was there or why it happened. I don't need an explanation. I walked into my daughters room, refusing to cry or show any sign of distress. I couldn't have sissy see me in the shape I was in, she needed me positive, not negative, not with a loud tear stricken moment. The second time I walked in, suddenly with no words, I walked right back out, found the wall and back against that wall I crumpled. I shattered and I fell more. I remember falling. I remember the dark, I remember a hardness. I had no sight of anything and just kept falling until I stopped. Head buried deep in my arms and I think curled into a ball, sitting on the hospital floor, in the hallway my tears burned, my eyes burned. My body felt like it was shaking itself apart and I could hear the blood coursing through me and I felt so lost and so very alone and scared, so scared. I felt everything fall apart in me. I felt every pain of every tear. I felt my body, mind, soul and heart rage in different directions and my mind shut down and I wanted to howl. I lost all my energy. I think I lost myself.

The shock and disbelief of what was happening tore into me like the riptide that drowns. I wanted nothing more but this intense pain to disappear and to be back where we were just a month before, happy and carefree and watching my daughter get married. I had no understanding of the world or anything around me. I just knew that my first born, my baby girl was somewhere far away and I couldn't help her. I remember thinking I wanted to just rip away all the tubes and bags in a despair of disbelieving. I wanted to crawl on the bed with her and hold her, tell her it was going to be ok, all during a time when we couldn't touch her for medical reasons.

Struggling in my own faith before this, for so many losses in too short of a time, even though I do have deep faith (we all stumble sometimes), I didn't even have the forethought to pray, seek solace, I sought nothing. I felt totally dead except for the pain. Then from somewhere came a defining moment and today I believe that had it not been for the following moment, I very well may have lost my faith. (Later, reading something that was sent to me after the fact, confirmed I might have as I had one specific person praying for me, not to lose the faith she knew that had been in me. Thank you to Misty who saw through my own written words, thank you to you and Jim for your prayers for me not to lose and thank you for telling me.

My defining moment came when I felt arms around me and instantly and vaguely wondered if it were my son or my son in law and I felt me shaking. I found the moment to pull myself together because I simply cannot fall apart when my strength is needed. I vowed not to break in front of either of them. I have always been the one to stand and not break and to take every hit, to save some one else and in this I looked up and it was neither, it was who I then thought was my kiddo's Dr. I remember saying thank you and I think I said something about anger and I remember just wanting to sink into him, and stay there and just cry. I've never felt so alone and in despair like this and yet I found a calmness in this stranger.

I wanted to let go. I couldn't do that. My daughter couldn't see me that way. That's what I knew. Then I heard what I didn't ever expect to hear; her not so dr asked if he could pray with me. Stunned, speechless and barely able to speak. I think I said please, that would be nice. I honestly don't remember if I stood on my own or if he helped me. I remember standing in the window alcove while he seemed to be searching desperately for a second chair, everything was a blur in slow motion yet with tracer like vision. I don't know if I sat down on my own or if he helped me. I remember arms interlocked, on the counter or so that's how I see it, heads together touching, and focusing and refocusing and refocusing again on the prayer. Take away my anger, give me the peace I still hear; the strength to make it through this trying time. I think that's what I remember. I remember Amen. How much of this is real in the way of words I don't know. All I knew was that this stranger cared in a way that made a connection in a deep emotional and spiritual way. I am not the only one who felt that. It was evident throughout my unwanted and unasked for, living moment of a nightmare. I remember later thinking that I just let an absolute stranger touch me and for the first time in many many years I didn't push away. I didn't think of it and I didn't hesitate to let this person reach out.

With one of the biggest parts of my world shattered, I used my strength and my will and I spent as much time as I could with my daughter. Talking to her, never crying in front of her though a few single tears escaped frequently through the rest of my time. I tried sleeping in her room but every time a machine went off or beeped out of it's rhythm I jerked and immediately panicked thinking something went wrong. Yeah I guess something did go wrong, so very wrong otherwise I wouldn't have been there. I quickly realized I couldn't sleep in her room, I would never sleep.

In a recessed cave of thought somewhere in my head I heard myself say we need sleep and food otherwise we will never make it. From then on I did my best to ask if others had eaten, to making sure we had food, even going to the cafe at 1 am to buy breakfast we knew we would eat after we woke. I drank more coffee during my time there than I do in 3 weeks time. That kept weirding me out every time I wanted coffee. I drank no where near enough water.

After all these moments above and so many more, focus became a real and vivid way of life. I pushed for answers, I asked questions. I pushed for certain tests, I wanted answers, we wanted answers. We spoke among us, we texted among us, those of us that held vigil. We thought silently and out loud, the ultimate brainstorming experience where even our past college classes couldn't compete.

There was the need by us to know what these machines did, what was in the way too many bags, hanging above my daughters bed, helping to try and give her life and try to make the reality of what was happening, go away. What the graphs monitored and how to read them, what to watch for and oh a change in meds, why the change or how to read how much time was left in each bag, how many ML an hr she was getting of what. When to touch, when to let go. We pushed for more. We learned what was in each container of clear and brown liquids. I even emptied the hose of her catheter once, into the bag hanging from her bed then thought how I probably shouldn't do that as they might be monitoring something. We wouldn't let anyone flush the toilet. We let the Drs do that as we didn't know if it would screw up any visual moment of their treatment. We pushed more and made more requests. To this day, we still don't have an answer we are willing to accept as the circumstances that put her here in the first place, it makes no sense as to what we were told her issue was. I pushed hard for the answer of what was the underlying cause of her bronchospasms. We questioned environmental issues and I still question her heart as she did have a condition. We pushed back even harder.

We all talked to her, teased her, we were able to find that gallows humor which sustained us and kept the insanity at bay. Her husband & I read to her, played her music, he told her about his day, how beautiful she was and about the kiddo and the love and the sorries and the self doubt, we both played video that she recorded or ones that were sent to us of little one. We each had our own private conversations, one of which I even shut the door for. She was never alone, she always had someone, we took shifts. We made the small consult room our bedroom, sleeping on the couches barely big enough for a child to sleep on and the floor. This same room also became our office and during the day we would use the attached lobby., this became our living room. My friend Laura was the one to make sure she was never alone. When real life forced it's way into the nightmare and made us leave for one reason or another, it was Laura who refused to leave her. We hated leaving but I am grateful to know in those moments when we had to, she was there.

Through all of this we watched how people treated this fragile moment that was changing so much so quick. We felt the nurses as they came and went, we listened to the drs. We pushed...yea I keep saying that. We held some light hearted conversations with some of these nurses which led us, the people of vigil, to hold a meeting in our make shift office over a gremlin bell that had been needing a new home since 2001, as it sat in it's royal blue velvet, dust covered bag. This bell had wandered everywhere I went, never being given it's proper home and always kept covered. We agreed very whole heartedly. I specifically drove back to home, North of Salem/Keizer area, to bring the bell to it's new home, where apparently it belonged.

The nurse we wanted to give the bell to wasn't working our station but our floor, we put out the word we wanted a meeting with him. It took all day before we were all in the same place at the same time with him. And only because him and I crossed a path, at the right time. I can still see the gentleness in him at this moment. In a quiet moment, in an office I'll never go back to, we gave Dr. T (who I still hold as a dr of the soul in my heart), as I will call him forever, this bell and a separate letter of appreciation I had written, for what he did and had done. We shared our thoughts and thank yous. This will remain as a good memory.

That changed the face of everything at that moment for all of us. Gratitude, respect, deep emotion, connections, love, shared faiths, shattered hearts. We made him tear up. We teared up. Back to rounds he went and to our living room we went. Minutes after being in our lobby Dr. T came out, hugged me and I knew he had read the letter and I think I saw him crying. I don't know and it's ok that I don't. He scurried off quickly, with his head turned.

I've only experienced loving someone I don't know one other time and she is what I call a God friend. The one who showed in a moment of despair, never knowing the affect and never seeing me but she showed...and I have loved her from that moment to well forever. I love her for what she stood for, for coming into my life and bringing me solace, for accepting the damned texts I had been sending to my mom, without a word, for several months. I love her for letting me have my moment and for her faith. I love Dr. T for what I saw in him, for the moment of helping me, a stranger, for asking me to pray, for the way he treated my daughter and for showing my son in law the soft side of man in a tragedy. We still talk about how we saw our sadness reflected in his eyes when he walked into the room once. I love this man of faith and God as I love Misty for her faith and God. My heart will always thank these two and these two will always be special...but I digress.

Finally being faced with hard, irrefutable proof, via a brain scan (mri) we had no choice but to schedule the time to take sissy off life support. Surreal, unreal, disbelieving, still not enough answers yet faced with no choice we barely functioned again, like stepping back in time to the haze. Everything went slow, so agonizing, yet the next moment we were out of time. The reality of never holding her hand, never speaking to her on speaker phone as I cooked dinner, never stroking her hair back from her face as we talked. Never seeing her gentle eyes or watching her grow as wife and mother. I knew she would never be able to tease her brother again except in his memories. We will never raise our hands, on a roadtrip, singing. I can only imagine what my son in law felt at that moment. I know what he feels now.

Our other Favorite Nurse, Nurse P, so soft spoken and gentle helped myself and my son in law in making the decision as to how to tell the baby, who is almost 3. She was so wonderful, so soft so caring and she shared stories of the past on how this had been done before. While some people won't agree we brought the baby in to say good bye. Pat had put out a hand knitted blanket over sissy. It was purple, her favorite color. We left the flowers in the back ground. Pat had taken the time to draw up a flower and a snail for fingerprints in each petal and one open space left for little one and one for Manny. Dr. T, ok Nurse fine...(dang I just heard you tell me you're not a dr) helped Nurse P place fingerprints from my baby girl into these petals. Bringing the baby in, her first words was “mom owee?” She was able to kiss her mom, do her fingerprint and overall she stayed about 5 minutes in the room. We all left with her to tell her bye and to be good. We are grateful for the direction in which Nurse P gave, we needed that and it turned out beautifully and little one did well. Nurse P is the reason why we bought the card and signed it as we did, to them. We are grateful little one is still so young.

So now here comes the after math...

I try hard to find silver linings in every bad moment. I believe in trying to take something good from any bad. In some cases this has taken years. Maybe this is part of why I have been able to keep faith, in the worst of times. It may also be why my faith gets shaky to. I think it depends on the answers we perceive after a tragedy, traumatic moment, heartbreak and how long it takes to come. Sometimes I forget God is there, when my grief is deep and by time I remember I realize I have lost a part of me and I wonder where my faith went. I struggle to get it back when these moments come. I always have gotten back and that's probably only because I do have a deep faith, not fleeting, even when I do “forget.”

I want my daughter back. I crave to hear her voice. I crave that text message that I know comes most mornings and eves, eves with a pic or video of my grand daughter. I crave the moment of trying to figure out what days off she had so I could maybe day trip with her somewhere, which we didn't get to do often. I crave the speaker phone, in the eves as I was preparing dinner. It has been a week today and I still haven't been able to cook for myself. Makes it challenging to continue to eat healthy when you don't cook. Thank God for Cafe Yum! The only vegetarian place I know that's decent. I crave our talks that we started a year ago. The deeper meaningful ones of life and fears and plans and hope and pains. I miss hugging her and being able to gather her hair in my hands during our hugs. I miss her attitude, her smile and a million other moments.

I know she would want us to find the good, she would demand it as I would, she would want us to search for it. I get it I taught her this. But there is a part of me who rails against finding the good because how in the hell can one really find good in a death of someone so vitally important, not just in my life but her daughters, her husbands and her own friends and the people she touched. Her brother! I hate that we have to find good in her death and I really want my money back on all of this. Despite my moments of being irrational and angry and frustrated I have found some silver linings. I don't want to have found them this way though and I do ask her what the heck is she up to.

In life she really disliked the discord in the society of people and she would get frustrated with the world at large and some individuals when she didn't understand. She wanted to bring the world back to peace and she did in so many ways, by those she touched. I never knew how many she truly touched until she passed. The amount of good things, the things she did, the people she hugged, the encouragement she gave, the fruits of her labor that she gave, the love in so much of what she did. I now know quietly, that her husband was behind this as he did help in the harvesting, the canning, the production of their garden and he knew what she was doing and he let her. In that he also quietly gave.

So in light of the silver linings I have found my thought is that she is fixing in death, what she couldn't fix in life. To me that wasn't her job dang it. Her death has brought about some renewals that may have never happened. She knew how bothered I was by the loss of a 20+ yr friendship last yr, over a misunderstanding, and a lack of proper communication. She had watched me for several years try and save that friendship. When she went to icu I was so terrified and felt that if we could pull every positive, from every corner that was part of her life that maybe we could help her. The one person whose friendship I had lost, I called. He was an integral part of our lives and hers especially and I simply asked him to pray, that's all I wanted. In the end he held vigil with us and I think we are on a path to renewing a friendship.

In her death, it brought her husband and I closer together. It taught me that he really loved her and it taught him, that I now have his back. It taught us both that we seem to make a very good working team as dad and gma, to make sure this little one is raised to be happy and fulfilled. She will learn much from both of us on some very different playing fields. In her moment shortly before death and for the first time I didn't shy from a strangers touch (I will always thank her for that precise moment). I think maybe she was trying to show me some of the faith I had lost. I think she wanted to show both her husband and me how to work more in unison and for the good. Maybe she wants him to find a faith and knowing of the faith I have, maybe she hopes he will follow...I don't know and that is up to him and his beliefs. Maybe this is her way of showing me that she is simply asleep until a resurrection and hopefully I will see her again one day.

The morning after she passed I woke up in tears and in my moment of waking I thought I knew why she passed. I shared this with my son in law and family. I guess only time will tell and we shall see how my brain and soul work haha.

The 1st night after she passed I was grateful for the weather and it's lack of rain. I dropped the top on the car, and let the wind soothe my battered self and I let silence over take. Driving to another town for dinner, I only wanted 2 things. I wanted to talk to my daughter and to someone to help me make sense of it all. I actually swear I saw me and one other in the farmers fields...I babbled, he listened and I heard nothing of what he said when he did speak. I almost stopped in the middle of the road to watch. Yes the mind does play tricks and sometimes those moments are very vivid. Whatever it was it was calming, though as my brother would say, don't bring the dead back by talking to the wrong. I get it Bro.

Mothers Day 2017

A smattering of thoughts

I went home to see my family. To touch them, talk to them hug them, cry and to explain what had happened and what was going on. I was terrified of being in our house with the memories of years of raising the kids, their friends and such. I avoided the house until I could no more. Before I made it I got angry and said screw it I was selling, I wanted no part of it. How could I ever be happy in a house that held so many memories of a daughter now very much unconciously, asleep. I railed against it. I finally went. I sat on the kitchen floor with my son and we spoke til shortly before dawn. I told him about my feelings of the house and he made a good point; “Mom, that's why I love it here even more now...all the good memories.” He was right in his 19 yr old wisdom. Being at the house wasn't that bad. Facing the family was tougher. I didn't want to sit in front of them and share what I knew or went through. I didn't want to make them cry. I didn't want them to hurt and yet I knew at the same time I had no control over that. I didn't want them to see me in my suffering when they've never seen me in the way that I am now. At the same time, it was good to be able to hug all of them. It was good to feel the love that is there. It was simply what I needed, I needed my family and to not feel so alone as I have been.

As glad as I was in the end to spend much needed time with them, I am also glad that I got to leave to come back here, to the place I am slowly also making my home. I'm glad I have that ability. I had some crazy notions and a lot of tears coming back. I believe in a restful passing and I believe that sometimes there is a confusion. I believe in a reincarnation but I feel you have to be at peace and on my way home to the valley I felt that my daughter was there but scattered and confused. That made me cry. I don't need or want her to be like that. She needs to be at rest. Yes, it sounds crazy to some I'm sure. Maybe it's because I am not fully at peace with everything. I spoke to her and promised her I would cook tonight and felt like we laughed together over that...maybe she gave me back my kitchen as tonight I did finally cook. I did leave my phone out of site but in the end I caved and I called her on her phone just to hear her voice only to hear the computerized voice. Dang I never knew she didn't set her own message. I've always either hung up when I knew she wasn't going to answer or she answered. I left her a message anyway and I stared at my phone and cried.

My place feels so empty and I know it's me. Her voice almost every night, is no longer here. For the first time ever I don't like living alone though I do know that my alone time is good for reflection. It's good to help quiet my soul and to accept what has been a life altering moment. It's a good time for me to reconnect and work on what I believe in and why. It's a good time to not dwell and to find the good memories so that they outweigh the gaping hole.

I stopped at my son in laws and played with my Monkey moo and spent a few hrs going through papers with him. I am glad to see that for the most part, I did know her as well as I thought. I did learn a few little moments but nothing took me by surprise. I'm grateful for that. I did tell my son in law though that if he found in her journals where she was mad or whatever at me that I did want to know as it might be something I needed to change. Even though Micki is his daughter, I am in her life double time and it's is important that she be raised well and if it means a lesson for me then so be it.

While the rawness is still there and the devastation is still very real I find myself functioning again. I don't cry all day like I did. I still hurt and have a hole in my heart. I talk to my kiddo just as I do my mom, my gpa and my friend Mike. I have my tears still but I'm able to laugh and joke without it being gallows humor. I'm glad to be back at work. I climbed waterfalls and creeks today in memory of my daughter and actually my son also as many times I'd see a waterfall and have to just jump out with my camera and climb away.

I'm not sure how I feel about church again as it has been a very long time but I thought about that again today. There is something to be said in fellowship. To be honest though, I have no clue what church to even go to if I did go. That seems kind of messed up and will have to think on that. I know that my catholic days are long gone and am not sure about non denominational but that's probably my best starting point. Funny how I don't even know what church to go to...God will tell me or he won't but hey with my beliefs maybe I shouldn't be in a church lol. I just know I have my faith in God and some quirky beliefs or that my beliefs fit no religion which I've been ok with for numerous years. I am Christian and with a belief and a faith, that's been good enough for me.

I know I simply just want to walk with someone and how I need not to focus on what really isn't empty. I need to lift my head up, feel the wind, feel the sun, the love and the faith and I will be fine. I need to climb my cliffs and stand with the ocean winds up high, wander creeks to the mt top highs.

Sis We both know this song wasn't written for you but I remember how so very excited you were when it played the first time...this song and you came up in discussion last night, so hold tight little one and mom will write. I'll even write a poem deal?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3GxaafLqatw&feature=youtu.be

The last song we sang together, with our hands in the wind and a little one in a carseat, holding her sunglasses and bobbing her head.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ytMqO-WQpQ4