Ascending

This morning two budding young construction “engineers” are on my mind. I’ve assisted both on “massive” projects and actually find their enthusiastic brand of supervision contagious. Guess I should confess my bias before I go any further with this tale—they’re my superbly talented two and three-year-old grandsons.







Both are intrigued with anything concerning “the trades.” Their scope is so broad that it ranges all the way from construction to garbage trucks and beyond. They are virtually mesmerized by skilled craftsmen and their fascinating equipment. I suspect they’ve both joined some secret fraternal guild employing hypnotic powers over their junior members. That’s based on the fact that they both barely breathe when any skilled craftsmen or equipment are in view. I have a gnawing and growing suspicion that their world discriminates against unskilled klutzes like me. That’s because their focus rapidly refocuses from their adoring Grandpa whenever tradesmen and their equipment appear. The bigger the scale of it; the better.






Not to worry. Recently I’ve been initiated as a non-voting unskilled apprentice into that order dominated by “Bob the Builder” types and their young admirers. Much of the status and self esteem for the younger members of this society appear to come through the medium of building blocks. The blocks range in size from Lego to some massive cardboard “mega” block. The usual method seems to be building a tall thin “Washington Monument” type of structure “to the heavens” or as high as possible. The mission always seems to be to build as rapidly as possible. That’s where my unskilled help comes in. It’s my job to compensate for the lack of a foundation and keep the tower from falling as the wobbly structure ascends to unsupported heights. Perhaps it’s because it’s for such a worthy young man (accompanied by a touch of Grandfatherly pride) that draws me into adopting this as my personal cause. Unfortunately, it’s usually not appreciated for very long. The constructor often feels compelled to gleefully implode his own project much to my silent dismay (now that it’s our joint project). Makes me wonder how the father and uncle, who is an AIA certified architect, deals with all of “this job site madness.”






This morning I find it difficult to face “the fact” that in many ways my building days are over. Even more difficult is to visually witness some of my past efforts seemingly crumbling before my eyes. It is unnerving to say the least. I am forced to ask myself if I, like my young builder friends, get so intent on a short-term “quick and dirty” monument that I lose focus on the big picture.






Recently I had a homeowner’s review with my Casualty and Property insurance agent. I was taken aback by the seeming undervaluation of our home on the insurance records. She quickly reminded me that the number only reflects the replacement cost of the “perishable above ground structure.” The land investment that our home is built on and the site and foundation work that supports our home will endure through virtually all catastrophes. It’s embarrassing to realize how easy it is to undervalue the often frustrating “unproductive” time devoted to developing crucial foundational character, integrity, and trust. Like my grandsons, I am learning that without that often hidden but valuable foundation, my efforts won’t endure even with others temporarily propping me up. Why is it that I begrudge the time, effort, and “loss of measurable momentum” that go into foundational building that is so crucial in my life and calling? I hope that my grandsons learn the ultimate value of foundations more easily than I have. But then again, perhaps it’s not a lesson to be learned without the hard enduring process that goes with it.