Go Ask Dad: Kind sticks

I’m thinking about fireplaces and fatherhood. No children were burned or harmed in the making of this brief reflection. It’s a metaphor, so bear with me.

First, the fireplace. Don’t get me wrong, gas logs are lovely. One push of the button and warmth in the room! But I’m picturing a brick fireplace, not electric or gas or “smart” except in the old-fashioned way of good design and proper ventilation. Of course, it’s not smart to start with the big logs. You wad up newspapers and collect “kind sticks” (my son’s malapropism for kindling). On their own, these tiny items would flame out. But collected with a little attention and care, they join forces to ignite the big logs for a long, slow burn.

Now moving from literal fires to a metaphor for fatherhood. I’ve been traveling a lot and missing my kids. On the road, I have shared the warmth of conversation with fellow fathers. We swap stories about our dear ones, jokes at our expense and more than a few proud moments that have less to do with what our children have done and much more with who they are. Like a fire, these conversations take time and effort to build. And there’s strength in numbers, whether in “kind sticks” or parenting.

The fire burns down, the conversations with fathers come to an end. And my son doesn’t say “kind sticks” anymore. He’s growing up. But one of my newest buddies told me about his daughter, who calls herself a secret agent and plunks out quiet melodies on his keyboard. Truth be told, he shared these details by the flame of a tiki torch, not a fireplace. But I get insight when and where I can. The memory still glows in my mind.