Rubber Duckie Moments

There’s something about a bright yellow rubber duck that makes me smile. And it’s not only me, either. Rubber duckies are known the world over for creating grins.

It may have started for many of us as small children, with getting to know one of our television friends, Ernie. I had a toddler crush on that puppet,

and would swoon on him when he would bring out that rubber duckie when in that tub…that song still makes me smile when I hear Ernie sing it.

Anyways…so these happy Ernie moments of my toddlerhood where he is thoroughly enjoying his rubber duckie has led to general rubber duckie enjoyment in my life. I’m not the only one…watch the video…rubber duckies are loved by many.

And rubber duckies aren’t just for kids…grown ups like them too…saw this car in the parking lot one day. Fun, huh?

So, this little interest I have in rubber duckies goes waaaaay back, and when I first started the counselling practice, I received a small rubber duckie as a gift to put in a table top fountain I had at the time. When I remodeled several years ago, the fountain disappeared, as did the duckie.

A few weeks ago, I found that ol’lil rubber duckie as I was sorting through some boxes. I sat him in the fountain in the waiting room cuz it just seemed like he might fit there. Melanie enjoyed the reactions of children of all ages discovering the duck over the next week or two.

For many, it’s quite stressful to visit a counsellor.

People come in to talk about some of the most distressing and difficult aspects of their lives, daring to vulnerably explore matters that are often of an extremely personal nature that don’t get discussed elsewhere.

So the waiting room can be a time of some tense anxiety. In light of that, we have worked to have our waiting room be a restful, peaceful place with soft music, a bulletin board with interesting quotes, and a trickling fountain…to calm the soul.

And, oh yeah, now we have a rubber duckie in the fountain.

It’s a bit of “funny” in a serious place…and has helped a few people find a smile when they needed one.

I’m rather a fan of “rubber duckie moments” during times of very difficult turmoil:

• I recall family friends who were grieving the death of the family patriarch. The family had gathered from all over to comfort each other and mourn the initial shock; then hunkered down and planned the funeral. One evening in the middle of the time between the death and funeral, all the family gathered at a restaurant for some good grub and fun reminiscing, and then all went to a comedy. They laughed and enjoyed life for one evening as a little break in the intensity of the grieving. It was a rubber duckie moment. The next day were final funeral preparations, and a viewing service.
• I remember a single mom friend of mine who gave encouragement to other new single moms to find (or create) laughter and silliness amongst the stress of adjustment, the crazy busy-ness of the tasks, and the stress of a stretched budget. She was adamant that at the most desperate and difficult times, finding a way to remember to laugh, even if for a moment, could change the way the difficult stuff would be perceived. She and her kids would set the timer and see how much cleaning they could get done in 10 minutes…they’d race around at break neck speed, scrambling to see if they could make a new record…giggles now erupting. Or, when the kids were crying and hungry, and she was at the breaking point during the difficult hour between arriving home from work and getting supper on the table, she would throw spaghetti on the ceiling to see if it would stick as a sign of “doneness”. And the spell of gloom would be broken by this rubber duckie moment.

I get that life can be heavy and serious…and trying to minimize that or pretend otherwise can feel trite and be a form of denial.

I’m not talking about ignoring the pain or imagining it away.

I’m suggesting that the intensity of grief, or the pit of depression can be slightly more bearable when there is an authentic belly laugh in the middle of it. I recall in the middle of a family tragedy at the hospital, how the resident had his fly open—nothing obscene, just obvious enough to be quite funny. A moment of silliness in an otherwise black landscape…it brought a tiny measure of temporary relief to the tough stuff that would become a heavy part of a sad reality in our lives for a long time to come.

So, the rubber duckie in our waiting room fountain is a tiny silly presence in the heaviness, bearing witness to a tiny joy--to be a tiny counterbalance to the weight of the hearts and souls of those in the waiting room. There will be some that will need a tiny focus of light in a dark time…something to bring a half smile to an otherwise desolate expression for a moment.

To be reminded that life is bigger than tragedy, and a tiny bit of comic relief can do any soul good…

…even if your name isn’t Ernie. 😉