This is Ford. It’s short for Clifford. He’s three. He is with his baby sister, Penelope, who is one. We had them for the Labor Day weekend. Being with children is a blessing, humbling, and exhausting.
After breakfast this past Saturday morning, and a quick photography session where he says, “Cheeeeeese” with a smile, Ford and I took his new bike to the park a few houses down the street. It was a cool early-September morning in the desert, but the sun was rising fast, and the heat was approaching 100 degrees. We’ve got plenty of water, hats, sun cover, and energy to let loose on our early adventure.
Unusually, no one else was at the park when we arrived. It turned out that another grandfather, his son, and his two sons, ages five and three, were in full play mode. As soon as we made eye contact, the five-year-old boy approached us and said, “Hey, you want a hug?”
“Sure,” I replied while giving Ford a loving nudge to indicate we can trust this dude.
Let’s call the boy Adam. Adam hugged Alex as if he’d had practice. It suggested the family gives Adam enough space to explore the world, and maybe even walk to this part from ten houses down without his mom or dad getting arrested and prosecuted by an ignoramus.
After the hug, we play on the massive outdoor jungle gym, with flooring made of thick layers of wood chips. We climb stairs, slide down multiple slides, ascend a rock climbing wall, and run around as healthy children would.
The three boys are standing on top of the world as far as they were concerned. I approached, looked up at them, and admired their courage to stand so close to the edge. As I got close, the five-year-old proclaimed, “Hey, you’re old. Are you the granddad or the dad?”
“Hey. Did you call me old?” I replied with a huge smile. “You think I’m old, huh? How come?”
“Your face. It’s all wrinkly.”
“Thank you. Just remember, age is a state of mind because even old dudes like me have fun playing, don’t we?”
The kid smiled and shrugged indifferently. “I guess so.”
We kept playing and had a blast.
Meeting children where they are is essential for their development
We can easily forget what’s going on in the mind and body of a child, especially during the first seven years of life. Our grandchildren are completely dependent on us when we have them.
The Harvard Center on the Developing Child and CDC Developmental Milestones show that at age three, a child’s brain develops at an extraordinary speed. It is building more than one million new neural connections every second, strengthening useful pathways and pruning others.
At the same time, vocabulary, coordination, problem-solving, emotional control, imagination, and social skills are expanding rapidly as experience literally helps shape the developing brain.
And who could not be grateful to know some of these things as we remember what it is like to be a child? Because short of that, how could we otherwise give children what they need and want most of us? Time, devotion, love, attention, and loving correction, as the child tests everything they encounter, especially shiny, expensive things.
Not stuff.
I remember what it is like to be a child
I feel my inner child when I ride a bicycle, write, paint, and sketch. I feel it when I meditate, contemplate, journal, and focus on letting go of the noise that detracts from the silence I cultivate in my life.
My inner child is on fire when we ride bicycles, play at the park, build stuff, and make complete messes of the toys. One of the best things we do together is art. I sit next to Ford, and we both paint something on our pads using our own brushes. Ford will pause on his masterpiece, peer at my canvas, and say, “Hey, pa pa. What are you working on?”
A few minutes later, I pause and say, “Hey, Ford. What are you working on?”
It’s a magical exchange.
Do you remember what it feels like to be a child? I hope so. If not, one way to begin remembering is by finding little things, anything, for which you can be grateful.
Making the most of time
Despite some of the challenges my wife and I face in life, we always make time for family, especially our two sons and their children. Investing time intentionally is a big part of living a rich life in our later years, and remembering to be grateful for every minute we’re here.
I make sure Ford and I have plenty of adventures planned for the weekend. But for the most part, like any child, we live in the bliss of the now, where there is no time, play, or maybe a temper tantrum.
My mornings are most special to me. Sharing them with my grandchildren is the last image I will leave you with today. When Ford pops out of bed at about 6 a.m., knowing I’m waiting for him in the family room where I sip coffee, read, journal, and list the things for which I am grateful, he comes to find me right away.
I hear him stirring and anticipate the first greeting of the day. There’s something undefinable about the innocence of a child who has just awoken from a full night’s sleep in his big boy bed.
When I see him approach, rubbing his eyes and getting used to the subtle light I use for reading, I smile and say, “Good morning, Ford. How are you? Did you have any dreams? Come give me a big hug and let’s start the day on a great note.”
“Okay, pa pa.”
And with a long, warm, and brilliantly loving hug, we start another day full of play.
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