I picked up my son from school this afternoon. He’s two. He doesn’t go to school but twice a week he goes to a daycare where he has a classroom and a teacher and desks and chairs so as far as I’m concerned he goes to school. This afternoon I picked him up and saw him building with a girl in a class. He wasn’t just using blocks to build things. My son and his classmate were working together to build a house. My discovery went something like this:
Me: “Hi Miles!”
Miles: “Mama, I built my house!”
Little Girl Classmate: “It’s OUR house!”
Miles: “I built our house!”
I started crying. Right there. I’d like to say it’s the first time but it totally wasn’t. He was BUILDING something productive AND positive WITH SOMEONE ELSE. This was unprecedented. A two-year old – my son – working with another person to build a home. It was the one of the most profound and touching moments I’ve experienced as a parent yet.
A House Is Not Always A Home
When I was driving us home from my emotional discovery today I was thinking about the weight of him building a house with someone and how great that was. For about six months he has understood what “Home” meant and when he is bored or tired he will often say, “I want to go home.” On the drive home he started pointing at houses in the neighborhood and saying, “house! House!” It was then that I realized he had never done that before. In essence, my son has understood the concept of “home,” long before he understood what a house was.
This is the meaning of life.
Houses are not always homes, and because you have a house you certainly may not be lucky enough to have a home. On the contrary, some of the lease fortunate, brokest people in this life have managed to make a home. A place where their children feel safe and want to return long after they are grown. The concept of home is less about sectionals from American Signature Furniture and more about love, respect and safety. Somehow my son understands that. And that, my friends is the meaning of life.