Rory Fitzgerald
Ten-year-old kids are complex creatures. There is but a short period in life when you fervently believe in Santa, but also can operate a computer proficiently. If there were a Venn diagram with circles entitled, ‘Computer skills’ and ‘Santa Claus’ the age in the intersection would be 10.
A 10-year-old is at a remarkable juncture in life. They are able to do things that adults do, such as reading books, writing, doing maths and playing competitive sports. Yet, while the grown up world is accessible to them, so is the fantastical world of childhood, in all its unselfconscious innocence. One moment, a 10-year old-can be beating you in chess. Then next, they are hitting a tree with a stick, imagining themselves to be a knight battling a dragon.
My boy turned 10 recently. Such milestones bring inevitable pangs of nostalgia. I remember bringing him home from hospital as a new-born baby as though it were yesterday. That means that his 20th birthday is tomorrow. By then, he will be a young man, out in the world on his own. It seems miraculous that such metamorphoses can happen in a just few short years.
Among his desired tenth birthday presents were football goals, a laptop, a rugby jersey – and a kitten. We had been thinking of getting a cat anyway, and it seemed a good idea to give our very caring boy special responsibility for it. We took him to an animal shelter were we were greeted by the usual melee of barking and mewling. Amid the chaos, one tiny creature stood out, and chose us. She purred the instant he held her, nestling in to him. As a ginger kitten found in a scrapyard, it was perhaps inevitable that we named her Rusty.
The day before his birthday, we brought the kitten home. On the journey back, she would only settle with him. She purred all the way home in the car as he comforted her in her carrier. A beautiful birthday weekend followed, in the company of family and friends. We even went to see the rather bigger cats and kittens in the wildlife park, since the lions there now have four playful cubs.
The first two decades of our lives are astonishing. We journey from the womb to adulthood, growing rapidly in body and mind each day. My son stands at a fulcrum in these years of explosive growth. The innocence of childhood pervades for now, but I can already see a gathering urge to grow up. This manifests in the form of desires to explore further afield independently, to understand the world more deeply and to test and increase his skills and capabilities.
He and his friends are always playing sport, building dens, or making bows and arrows with penknives. Around the house, this useful boy lights the fire, helps with the hoovering and even can make delicious scrambled eggs for the whole family. His skills at singing and sport are remarkable. New capabilities will continue to burst forth, along with a corresponding desire for freedom.
Before kids arrive, we rightly concern ourselves with careers, buying a home, travel, finding someone to marry. Yet once kids come on the scene, once glittering things begin to appear relatively tawdry, next to the awesome and joyful task of helping our children to grow up well. Seeing them grow each day, above all in love and kindness, remains the joy and honour of my life.