by Rob Hueniken on Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Anyone who has teenagers knows the sadness of their leaving to start their own home.
For parents with children the advice is clear: play with your kids; spend time doing things together — today!
This is a poem I wrote for my son, whom I love dearly.
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Cleaning the Workshop
The time has come to clean the room.
To move big pieces and use the broom.
And lift the layers time has spread
Which spin back memories through my head.
Against the wall a wooden box
Raised up on legs with screws is locked.
And on the front my son’s full name
By his own hand it does proclaim.
And there within a child’s treasure:
Bits cut from wood without a measure.
Tiny tools for a young hand
That now belongs to a young man.
How long these treasures lay in dust,
His interests elsewhere but here I touch
The time we shared and built a toy
When I was the father of a small boy.
I clean the box and throw out strings
That may have been the start of things.
I keep the projects that have shape
And with a camera a shot I take.
I miss that boy and the simpler times
When shapes and tools were on his mind.
But here’s his hammer in my big hand.
From the things we built we made a man.
By Rob Hueniken
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by Rob Hueniken on Friday, September 4, 2009
Each autumn a diaspora of children, young and getting older, spreads into schools and communities across the nation. As the parent of a university-aged daughter, I hold dearly my role in helping her grow from a teen to an adult.
Yesterday my wife and I helped our daughter move into her new home, using two cars to ensure there was enough room for all the furniture, clothes and fridge. There were many things to bring, but none as precious as the promise of new learnings and opportunities to share and grow.
It was a successful day of setting up that included me helping her put up photo frames and attach white water lily flowers to the walls. I wondered for a moment about what landlords think of 30 flowers stuck into the wall, but the final result was of beauty, joy and new creation. That is what we hope for in times of growth.
While spring and summer are the main growing months for crops, the autumn is the time for children. I cherish my daughter, and the moments I get to help her directly. I relish and respect the chance I get to help a child. Step by step, flower by flower, they becoming the people they are meant to be.
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Making more of today,
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