Why We Need Them in Our Lives

The Value of Substitute Grandparents

It’s often said kids are raised by a village, not just their parents alone. As we come of age, we hopefully have a web of caring adults — family, teachers, mentors — guiding us along. Children need a tribe overseeing their journey to adulthood.

My three boys were lucky to have these supportive figures teaching, advising, and nurturing them. A series of devoted teachers, scout leaders, coaches, music instructors (all three played in high school bands), helpful neighbors, and church members. Some folks I grew up with became important to my sons; one, Aarav, has provided friendship, and a retreat when needed. Another, Rayan, is godfather to Aamil, my youngest.

You probably noticed one group not mentioned: relatives. I’m blessed with a wonderful family, but my wife and my parents have passed. We live near only one close family member, my wife’s brother Ray in the next town over. My dad and father-in-law were older when they had kids and died while the boys were young. The two oldest, Zayd and Nyle, retain some memories of their grandfather, but Aamil, the youngest, does not.

But children, especially sons, require those senior mentors. As much as I cherish my boys, fathers and sons inevitably clash. They butt heads; dads can be too demanding or impatient, and boys think fathers don’t understand them. Other elders can step in, and lend an empathetic ear, a differing view, just by being present as someone besides mom and dad. Kids shouldn’t have to confide everything to their parents. All three sons had other role models — coaches, teachers, and scout leaders — demonstrating positive ways of being.

For our family, our church provided many such caring elders, substitute granddads, and grannies. Even non-religious folks can find at places of worship an intergenerational web of ersatz aunts, uncles, tios and tias. These stand-in relatives bear witness as children grow, buying baked goods and wrapping paper for fundraisers, dispensing affection and wisdom.

I’ve lived far from my hometown, lacking family nearby. Yet we need kin, and my church supplied the extended clan previous generations enjoyed close by.

One such gift was Kamil.

My son Aamil differs greatly from me in personality. I strive to explain things helpfully, but sometimes my guidance perplexes him. If I demonstrate a task, he’ll get frustrated not mastering it fast enough, or find my instructions confusing.

I don’t know why Kamil took Aamil under his wing. At first, just friendly banter at church, asking how he was, purchasing whatever Aamil peddled for Scouts or school. Soon Kamil began teaching practical skills — handling tools, and yardwork. Often these were things I’d shown Aamil previously, but somehow they clicked better demonstrated by Kamil.

Kamil started hiring Aamil for chores — clearing junk from the garage, and mowing the lawn. He would monitor Aamil’s work, guiding them with tips, corrections, and encouragement as needed.

Crucially, Kamil held Aamil accountable without coddling. Jobs had to be completed properly, even if several attempts were required. When younger, Aamil struggled with distraction and wanted to quit prematurely. Kamil kept him focused until the task was finished — and done right — before getting paid.

Kamil also paid Aamil for his labor. Apart from family chores, this was Aamil’s first paid work, money he could save or enjoy as he pleased. Earning your cash builds pride and self-reliance. This was another gift from Kamil.

Kamil led by quiet example. He was kind, funny, strict sometimes, and unafraid of hard work. One moment encapsulates him: the church parking lot had a huge pothole for ages. People griped but nothing happened. A committee was informed. Little was done besides drawn-out discussion.

One Sunday Kamil arrived with a truckful of dirt. He filled the crater himself with a shovel and a strong back.

Problem solved.

Kamil spied on an issue and simply addressed it.

I struggle to imagine a finer model for any of my sons.

You likely noticed my use of past tense; I learned today Kamil passed away. Unfortunately, our families lost touch during the pandemic, so neither Aamil nor I have seen him in some time, and now only in memories.

But I’m deeply thankful he lived, that we knew him, that he mentored my son when he sorely required a caring guide.

Wherever you are Kamil, vaya con dios. Go with God.