Gratitude | William and his workbench.
Yes. We are a family of 4 + 1. Being a single parent presents many challenges. Blimey. But I am proud to say that I have been able to deal with most of the challenges that have come our way. No. It’s not always easy, but I’m determined.
There are some circumstances that pop up that I am simply unable to conquer. Like showing my son how to use a drill. Yes I know how to use a drill. But do you think I can explain to my head-strong eleven year old boy that Mum knows what she is doing with a power tool? Surprisingly, I have no credibility in William’s eyes on this topic. None.
What does a girl do in such a situation? Obviously, she calls her Dad.
And here is the loving, beyond expectation, life changing, grandson / grandfather bonding result.
That workbench to the right there was one of Grandad’s Christmas presents to William. My Dad made it especially for William.
When William was given his workbench from Grandad he was incredibly excited. He yelled out to me, “Hey Mum! You will never guess in a million years what Grandad has made me for Christmas!”
“What is it?” I yelled back.
“A craft table Mum!”
Oh dear. The down fall of living with ‘just a Mum’.
I gently explained to him that his gift from Grandad wasn’t a craft table, that in fact it was a WORK BENCH (said with a deep voice and fist punch into the air to emphasise the manliness of the item).
William’s reply? “Oh yes Mum. Of course. A workbench.”
I had given Stella, Scarlett and Henry desks for Christmas. My Dad came over on Boxing Day to put them together. It was the perfect opportunity to show William how to use the cordless drill.
I have no hesitation in William having a power tool in his hand. He is the most risk adverse, level headed, old school thinking kid you will ever meet. He once told me that he wanted to save up and buy an electric blue Commodore ute. And excitedly added that the first thing he would do when he bought his ute was pick up his best mate and go to a cafe and have a coffee. See? He’s gentle soul.
Dad showed William how to assemble the first desk. William assembled the remaining two desks AND his sisters new tent under the watchful, trusting eye of his Grandad.
The physical accomplishment was awesome. So rewarding for this eleven year old. My Dad taught William how to do something useful, practical. But it was the emotional gift that my father gave my son that stayed with William and that William spoke about during our bedtime re-cap of the day.
My Dad, his Grandad, had trusted him.
My Dad, his Grandad, had spent the time explaining ‘stuff’ to him.
That’s all our kids want really. Time. Time spent with them. And to be trusted. To be given a chance.
I forget this on a daily basis. I’m racing around absorbed in the day-to-day ‘caring for’ duties of our daily lives. The daily routine of ‘making it happen’. Scared of what will happen if I drop a ball. And when I remember that they need the deeper things I’m usually too busy to put the well meaning thought into physical practice.
Tonight I am so grateful for my family. For the loving, caring people in my life that ‘fill in the gaps’, and then some.