Ever changing moods

Nothing about him is right. His ears are too crooked, his eyes too blind, his hair too wild, his head too big, his body too narrow, his words too fast, his appetite enormous, his laugh too charming.

And yet he is almost perfect when he races through my room on a tricycle. It is raining outside. That is why I allowed him to play indoors. But I now understand very well that Joshua is a child who needs space. Meanwhile, my floor lamps have been knocked over, there are deep scratches in the hardwood parquet, all the kitchen cabinets are severely damaged. And to make matters even worse, he has burned his fingers on the black wood stove.

“I'm Max Verstappen,” he shouts at me. I believe him immediately. He turned six last week. He got a T-shirt with the Formula 1 logo. And now, no one can stop him anymore. Every day he gets on his inseparable tricycle and races through living rooms, hallways, the streets, the neighborhood, the park, the shopping center.

A few years ago, it did not look like he would become such a lively boy. My niece's pregnancy was anything but smooth. After just four months she ended up in the hospital with all kinds of complications. After thorough research, the experts concluded that something was wrong with the baby. That much was clear from blood tests. But they could not give a name to it. As a result, this vague diagnosis hung like a dark cloud over the remaining months. When Jushua came into the world, everyone was initially relieved. He seemed healthy, beautiful, playful. He reacted the way a baby should react.

But after a couple of months the relapse came. Joshua barely ate anymore, slept poorly, started coughing and developed a fever. Additional research was done. And only then did the experts find out what was wrong. Joshua suffered from a rare blood disorder. This abnormality not only affects his growth but also essential functions of his kidneys, liver and heart. Because the ailment was so rare, no one can or dares to predict the future course of his life.

But Joshua is still alive and kicking in his own, unique way. And every now then I have to look after him. And today my niece had to go unexpectedly go to the office and asked me this morning if I wanted to babysit Joshua for the afternoon. No problem. I love the boy. But I thought and hoped it would be dry outside.

As he speeds past me again, I cannot help thinking about his future. What will become of him? How do you survive in a society where the rule of power prevails? What chance does he have in a world where brute force, where money, connections, and status rule? How is he going to manage his fragile life when he has is so dependent? When he has no position, no impact, no prestige, no grip?

Lost in thought, I listen to the songs on my Spotify playlist. The Style council. Walls come dumbing down. The upbeat tempo softens my negative mood a bit. I start to relax a bit.

Suddenly I hear the cheerful singing of someone braving the heavy rain outside. To my horror I see Joshua cycling on the sidewalk. How did he get outside? I run to the hallway and see that he has managed to open the front door himself. I quicken my pace and sprint after my cousin. When I finally manage to catch up with him, I am panting like an old horse. I can convince him to come back to my house. Once inside he wants to watch TV. That seems like the safest thing he can do for now. No more Max Verstappen for a while. No tricycle, no escaping, no broken side chairs.

As he stares so sweet and so small at the screen, that impending feeling of vulnerability comes over me again. For now, he is still so delicate, so individual, so lovely in his own way. What remains of it? Who will be waiting for him when he gets older? What forces are there that protect him and allow him to go his own way?

When his mother comes home, he perks up. He catches a glimpse of her and runs straight to my niece. She embraces him completely, in her strong, slender arms.  I feel it from a distance. That deep warmth, that intense radiation. And then I realize it. How Joshua will survive in this brave new world.