A couple of Christmases ago my son’s wish came true. Santa brought him a set of Death Star Legos.
It was a monstrous project with 4,016 Lego pieces and countless bags that divided the Lego pieces into steps. It took up most of the dining area, and six days of hard work for Alex to complete.
Almost every day after school Alex would get his Death Star out of his closet where he kept it safe keeping away from the cats. He’d take it to the dining table where he developed different play scenarios using Star Wars figures and by positioning them differently in the Death Star.
Then, one day his younger sister, Sophia, had a friend over. She’d never touched his Legos before but on that day, she and her friend opened the closet and destroyed all of the sets he’d made, including his biggest construction, the Death Star.
When we gathered in the room, all we saw were countless Lego pieces spread out all over.
“I’ll help you rebuild it,” I told Alex, and hid my tears while I gathered all the pieces in a large container and put it back in the closet.
Sophia was punished and forbidden from playing in their room when she had a playdate.
I tried to organize the Lego pieces by separating them by color, then shape, then size but there were too many pieces to manage. So, both Alex and I dreaded to start the project and waited a couple of months. The original organization of step by step building was no longer in place, but I encouraged my son one evening to give it a try and see what we could accomplish.
We poured the Legos onto the floor. The project was in shambles. A pile of Lego pieces, some of them as small as the tip of our fingers were in front of us.
Alex opened the instruction book and we started digging through the Legos to find a tiny piece buried somewhere in the pile. We were frustrated, but piece by piece the construction of the first floor was finished then we moved onto the next step. After several months, we are to the third base of the Death Star and it doesn’t take as long to dig through the pile.
“Why did she do it?” Alex asks me many times during our collaborative work.
“I don’t know,” I always respond and keep digging while we both look for the Lego pieces and he puts them together.
In my mind I make a connection to our lives that are often broken down into stages in so many ways. Circumstances can leave our accomplishments in shambles and then it’s up to us to have the strength to rebuild them.
This Monday Alex and I finished the third base of the Death Star. There is only one left to finish the whole project.
Each time I help Alex restore the complex structure, I can’t help but project it onto my own life.
I has been more than a year since my divorce. Last year in June I asked to relocate to Oologah from Enid, I’m dreading the stress of the court that’s coming up next week.
I’m still in the process of rebuilding my life to a functional level.
So many times my only wish is to receive a carton box filled with packages full of pieces that I could put together with instructions.