Mancub recently mentioned that he wants to get back to building with his Legos. It's one of those toys you just don't throw away, even when children seem to outgrow them, and his are stored away but accessible. Over the years, we spent countless hours together building, chatting away and just enjoying each other's company. Many of his main Christmas gifts from me were those big sets with a bazillion pieces destined to be stepped on by an unsuspecting adult. I'm fairly certain that's how some cursewords were invented. If you know, you know.
One of my fondest memories is a winter night when we sat on my mom's bed, much later than his bedtime, making a firehouse with trucks, engines and accessories come to life. I'm spatially challenged; he is exceptionally adept in that department. The glass windows made me want to pull my hair out and there was perspiring, but he was cool and content. My mom watched on with that warm smile on her face and love beaming out of her eyes. She always said how lucky she was to have been a mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother. I get it.
I'm not sure he remembers us watching The Lego Movie on the beach in our PJs, cuddling and munching popcorn. But I know it's in the moments that bonds are strengthened, so I walked to the beach in my jammies too, grateful for the little hand in mine. We've always been more than relatives. We're friends.
When he brought the subject up the other day, it all came flooding back, as did this pic taken when Kitty and I took him to Legoland. The grown ups were not having a good day but we faked the hell out of it for him, as one does. There's no greater gift than having the time to explore the world through the eyes of a child. I have been truly blessed with moments.
