Raimi at Five
Raimi is as tall as a seven year old, so I catch myself sometimes forgetting that he has just turned five. He is so sensitive and sweet, so fascinated by how things work and what’s the truth about things, that I forget sometimes that when I answer his “why?” it may be the first time he’s ever heard the answer. There’s so much to learn, about caves and oceans, different cultures and time periods, buildings and biology. He has a lot of questions.
Yesterday we were driving home and he asked me, “what is a graveyard?” We’d talked about this before, but it had been awhile. I told him that when people’s bodies die, their spirits go on, but there are lots of different ideas about what to do with their bodies. Some people believe you should be creamated, turned into ash; and others think you should be buried in a cematary so your family and loved ones can go visit your grave and remember you. He asked about what happens to your spirit, and I said I don’t know for sure, but told him a few ideas, like that you go to be with God, or you go to heaven, or your energy goes out into the Universe. It was pretty deep, and he got quiet. I asked, “is that weird to think about? … or interesting? … or sad?” and he said, “it’s pretty interesting.”
That night as I got Kinnell into his pajamas, Raimi was quietly talking to himself and playing with some toys when he was supposed to be getting ready for bed. He’d taken some of the poles off of the chimney and entrance to the toy Sioux tipi he got for his birthday and was saying, “these spirits are going up to heaven. These spirits stay here.” The spirits going up to heaven fluttered above his head.
Lost in thought and play is the place you are most likely to find Raimi. He loves making elaborate lego sets with his daddy. He loves playing with star wars figures and transformers. There’s always some kind of story being played out, usually with his back turned towards you, quietly speaking the words of his imaginary world. He told us a little while ago that he had been making a dream in his mind at school. He didn’t describe what it was about, but that was how he explained it.
At the same time that he can become very involved in his own imagination, he’s also incredibly perceptive. He doesn’t seem threatened by his brother, doesn’t try to outdo Kinnell — instead taking pleasure in his brother’s antics along with the rest of us. He accepts that Kinnell is how he is because he’s two — and Raimi is wonderfully, uniquely Raimi, with his own tricks up his sleeve. He enjoys his brother, worries for his safety, notices how he’s doing and feeling.
Raimi’s birthday party was predictably chaotic, with a swirl of kids running around, playing, trying to engage Raimi. For most of it he was carefully concocting scenarios with a play mobile set of knights and medieval weapons, his back turned to the rest of the kids. But he did find time to chase our neighbor Benjamin around with swords, enjoyed his birthday cupcakes, and gave each child a hug and thanked them for the presents they brought. The day before we had taken him to Red Lobster, which he had told us many times we were depriving him of. He had lobster tail and found it quite delicious after some careful scruitiny of its shell and somewhat uncertain first bite.
This weekend we had one last birthday hurrah, inviting his buddy Nate over to celebrate–Nate had missed the party because he was sick. Raimi and Nate have a lot in common, and each spent most of the evening following their own interests, not playing directly together. But Raimi really cares about his friend. His party had had a pirate theme, and Nate finds bones and skeletons kind of scary, so we’d taken out the skull & crossbones flags from the decorations in Nate’s goody bag. Before Nate could really go through the loot, though, Raimi quickly sifted through and fished out a pirate eye patch, looking at me meaningfully. “We shouldn’t give this to Nate.” He said. “No it’s ok–it’s just a patch” I said. He held it out to me for closer inspection. A raised skull. I’d totally missed it. Later, Nate and Raimi discussed Raimi’s polly pocket bus and whether it’s a girl toy. “Yeah,” said Raimi, “It’s probably my only girl toy.” They sort of pondered that, while Raimi dressed polly in her purple dress with hot pink boots.
I think Raimi is kind of compelling to other kids in the certainty with which he concocts and carries out his ideas. I don’t know whether other children see him as having some sort of leadership quality; or whether they don’t know what to make of him; but either way they defer to him–at least at times that matter to him. At daycare, the kids know he likes to spend indoor recess time bouncing on this green hoppy ball. They know that’s what he does, and yesterday as we were leaving, a little girl ran up to tell him that she would give it to him the next day when he came back. Raimi’s class made construction paper sunflowers to decorate the hallway outside their classroom, and before they were done, he informed me that his would be the tallest. And it was! I could imagine a whole arms race of sunflower height, but Raimi got what he wanted. By half a foot at least, his was the tallest. It also had a ladybug and a tiny dot — “an aphid,” he explained.
All of this is just to say that Raimi at five is visionary. He imagines worlds and universes, sets goals and hatches plans. He’s also attuned to the feelings of others and able to express his own cares and concerns. He didn’t want to say good-bye to Nate tonight because saying good-bye makes him sad. (Kevin thinks this was a diversionary tactic because he wanted to keep hopping on his hoppy ball. I think maybe both are true.) The other night as we listened to melancholy music he told me it made him a little sad. His eyes welled up with tears, and he consented to sit in my lap and be hugged. Then happier music came on and he became lost in thought, listening, smiling sweetly and laughing at the words.