March 08th, 2021

I was looking at a mates web site.  It showed pictures of him building sandcastles with either his kids or grandkids (I do not know – we have just made contact again after a few years)
What really stood out to me was he was getting down and dirty with the kids.  He was entering their world.  Sandcastles are not normally a high priority on an adults list of things to do.  I do not remember my dad hurrying to get the shed built so he had time to build a road in the dirt to drive the matchbox cars on.
As a kid though there was a time that was my world.  I thought the track was pretty good.  In hindsight an all-terrain vehicle would have perhaps been more appropriate.  Didn’t bother me though.  The cars I had did the trick.  Some of the area they had to traverse was pretty challenging.  Not for me though.  I was an expert driver.  Ok only one car could be driven at a time, but I had my hands full.
The afternoon I did that I called mum out to check it out.  I am sure her priority would have been whatever she was doing at the time.  But she entered my world.  She did not talk about impracticalities and what could be better.  She made me feel like I had done a good job.  I had with the limited physical and mental resources I had (probably the fact it kept me absorbed and quiet for a while helped to).
I reckon it is great to see an adult playing with the kids.  For sure there is a time for everything but that includes a time for playing with the kids.  Seems to me us being young at heart is built into us.  Adults no sooner have kids then again a kids world is important.  Then they become grandparents and the process starts again.
One of the saddest things about the covid lockdowns has been the separation of kids from grandparents.  The missing is mutual.  The reunion satisfying to both.  I ask why?
It is not the case in every case, but it seems a trust has been built by the kid.  Dad or grandad is there with unconditional love.  Being naughty prompts discipline, but that never seems to be for the heck of it, but for a reason.  I’ll never forget a friend of mine commenting about their daughter, “wherever she goes, a part of my heart goes with her.”  Hopes, fears, aspirations reveal a deep love yearning.
Kids do not need to concern themselves where the next meal is coming from, or the roof over their head, or the bed they are sleeping in (though I did concern myself with the roof over my head when I was under the table and a cyclone was there.)
Kids hero worship.  “My dad can beat your dad.”  Even though I don’t have kids it is best you don’t mess with me – I have a blackbelt in macrame.  Not even I believe that.  It is probably just as well the hero worship ends.  Too much pressure.  Parents go from knowing everything to knowing nothing and end up somewhere in between which is about right.
It seems to me we are built to stay young at heart.  Not blind trust but confident trust.  Trust belonging to the trustworthy.  But my dad can beat your dad and if he were still with us, he could tell you himself.