When our grandson was about 2 years old, we had a concrete step that was being replaced at the back of our house. The thing was heavy and wouldn’t easily break apart. Disposing of it was going to be a major challenge. So, I decided to place it on the terrace in our back garden. It was lugged up the hill and sort of tucked away in a private spot that no one really ever noticed. Grandson Noah and I decided that it was a perfect place for he and I to hide out from time to time while everyone else was busy being busy. Hence it became affectionately known as “The He-Man Hideout”. It was our special place.
Of course, our boy is hardly a boy anymore. He’s a teenager. His world is full of schoolwork, sports, friends, technology, and all the other important and necessary teenage things. It won’t be long before high school and cars and girls and then college and career and adulthood overwhelm his world. He’s a loving grandson and he is good to me, but we haven’t spent any time in “The He-Man Hideout” in years.
When Noah was a little guy, he truly believed that we were hidden from the outside world. Today the Hideout is not really needed. It has served its purpose. Now it remains a reminder of a time not so long ago when we had a special place to hatch our plans and prepare for our conquests. A place where our imaginations would carry us away. Questions were asked and answered. We had a place where we could share a laugh or a hug. And we knew that our secrets were safe and secure.
“The He-Man Hideout” is still in our backyard, and it will remain there until the day I die. It is very likely that someday someone will look at that concrete step to nowhere and never understand the majesty of this holy place. They will only see its uselessness and absurdity and they will never know that it carried us on countless imaginary journeys. To outsiders, it will be met with the same perplexity as Stonehenge or those tags on pillows that can only be removed by authorized personnel. But I will always cherish the memories of sitting on that step with my little man and discussing the mundane and the mysterious; the silly and the serious; the simple and the profound. And dreaming of our future.
I believe that Noah and I still have some amazing years ahead of us. We may not be sitting side by side on that little concrete step in the back garden, but we are together as much as his expanding world allows. As he continues to grow and he takes on this world, I hope that he knows that I’ll always have a special place ready whenever he needs to get away. And we can still share a laugh and a hug.
Peace,
Denis




This morning he didn’t think he could make it to school. He pleaded his case but Mom and Dad assured him that he would be okay. They offered him a favorite stuffed animal to take for “rest time” at pre-school (which is apparently a common practice for others in his class). The stuffed animal might offer some security and reminder of home but he refused it in a very adult manner: “No thank you Mommy, there are two reasons I don’t want to take my stuffed animal. First, I don’t want germs from other kids to get on it. And sometimes people play with their stuffed animals when it’s not resting time and our teacher doesn’t like that.” Apparently he knows his limitations.






