Lost and loving it
For those of us who were / are so lucky: is a joyous childhood the result of carefree days filled with learning and play? Or do we simply reflect back upon our children whatever small measure of the deluge of happiness they bring us but we cannot withhold for ourselves?
I watch Oliver growing and learning and I don't know the answer, if there is one. Surely some days, what we so flippantly call "play" is every bit as stressful as what we've come in our adult years to know as work. Yet children smile and laugh and lose themselves in it so readily and we adults push and pull and resist that same measure of devotion as we age.
I'm reminded of Neil Young's "I am a child," ...
I am a child, I'll last a while.
You can't conceive of the pleasure in my smile.
You hold my hand, rough up my hair,
It's lots of fun to have you there.