Seamus Curtain-Magee knows that the right kind of parental love often goes unnoticed.
Do you know why your daddy cuddles you?
Because ummm… he likes to chase me!
Yes, but do you know why your daddy cuddles you?
Because he wants to put me in pyjamas!
Yes…. he does. But do you know why your daddy cuddles you?
I was doing it again. I was baiting my son, trying to extract an answer from him to make myself feel better. I don’t know why exactly, but it is something I do from time to time. I reach for those little moments of warmth and fuzziness. As I think back on them I realise that they never come if I try to force them, so I leave it go, knowing that I shall forget again at some point.
I want him to say “because he loves me!” and grin and throw his arms around me and giggle. I want him to know that I’m there for him and I love him as I dry him after the bath, put on an almost redundant night nappy and try to clothe this child who is (as usual) far too alert for someone so tired.
But I pause for a moment and have a thought. After I have the thought, an unbidden moment of sentimental warmth fills me from toe to crown as I breath. I can feel the fuzz bristling through the air, and I am content.
We all hate being taken for granted, don’t we? It is annoying, frustrating and insulting. I teach, I know what it’s like to be taken for granted. I’m married to an amazing woman who I try not to take for granted, but I know I do it from time to time. And there are times when I am probably taken for granted too. It can’t be helped. I try to be dependable and reliable, so it makes sense that taken for granted-ness would occur from time to time….
I’m drawing out a thought, so bear with me.
My son takes me for granted. He does. He is supposed to; he is my son and he is but 3 years old. Breakfast appears on the table. There is a roof over his head. He has clean clothes every day. He has toys and books and all kinds of wondrous luxuries.
There’s more too it.
There are panels that turn the sun into electricity, forcing electrons to travel through metal wires to heat up filaments in LEDs. There are engines that burn fuel and propel us forward faster than we could ever hope to run. There are timber frames holding up walls. There is insulation that keeps us warm. There is plumbing that keep us clean. The roads, the parks, the trucks, the ships, the farms, the factories and the satellites that support his existence. Does he even comprehend their existence?
Of course he doesn’t. They’re part of an infrastructure so vast that no one human, especially not such a young one, can understand it all.
He takes it for granted.
♦◊♦
But there’s another kind of infrastructure that supports him, other needs that must be met. Other vast nerworks in the background of his world that sustain him. There is love. There is safety. There is warmth. There is joy.
I spent a lot of this evening chasing (and being chased by) my children up and down the corridor. It was a good diversion that gave The Mamanator enough time to actually go to the toilet. We no longer take the toilet for granted in this house… Gosh it was fun. The exhilaration, the squeals of delight from the children and the exertion of running combined into a few moments of bliss.
Now, after the struggle of dinner, the turmoil of trying to get the kids to pack up and the pain-staking negotiation of trying to get The Lad into the bath (The Lass was fine), I was getting him ready for bed and trying to get him to say that I love him.
Love is more than the things we do. Love is more than the feeling we feel. Love is more than the word I am trying to get him to say. Love is the foundation of goodness in people. It is the infrastructure in us that makes us work, makes us happy and makes us safe. Love is made up of thousands of things, moments of joy, moments of struggle and moments of despair. Love is the network of roads, the telephone system, the plumbing, the power lines. Love is what whurs in the background and makes our world function. Love makes the lights go on.
So please son, take my love for granted.
Later he sleeps. I wish him good night and come out to clean up some more. Before long I hear my daughter calling out. She hasn’t been well, and The Mamanator has spent a long time with her to settle her, so I provide relief. As I take her tiny body against my chest and whisper to her she nods off.
I read this while I rock her, and tears fall. Her breath rises and falls. She takes her safety, her warmth and the love of her mum and dad for granted.
And all is well.
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Originally appeared on the author’s blog.
Photo: Flickr/MAJ Aaron Haney via U.S. Army
Well, when you put it like that! 😉
I am glad my 3 year old son can take love and security and all the needs he has met for granted. Imagine life for a toddler who can’t. My heart breaks at the thought.
Great post. I think a lot of kids take their parents for granted until they are older and actually start noticing what their parents are doing.