The Castles We Build as Children
(Happily ’N’ever After – When Sandcastles Fall, Post Two)
My mom always read to me. Bedtime stories weren’t an afterthought — they were a priority, and she made them fun. My world of pretend was shaped by adventures in the Hundred Acre Wood, with Winnie the Pooh by my side and Tigger as my hero. Those stories gave me a safe place to land, and they built the first castles of my imagination.
So when my own children were born, bedtime stories became a priority for me too. My oldest was studious and loved books for their words and wisdom. Corey loved them for the storylines — how they fueled her imagination and spilled over into her make-believe worlds.
Corey’s childhood drawing of the Hundred Acre Wood crew — the stories that sparked her imagination.
Her Barbie world was her stage. I never connected much to dolls myself, but for Corey they became a canvas for family, love, and belonging. Her Barbies lived in happy homes. They were always smiling, always surrounded by family. And of course, there were the fashion shows — endless runways of glitter, gowns, and the most extraordinary wardrobes her imagination could dream up. Somehow, though, no matter how glamorous her Barbies looked, my bare feet always managed to find the tiniest high-heeled Barbie shoe, sharp enough to puncture my soles and humble me in the middle of her “happily-ever-after.”
Corey’s view of her family captured in one of her drawings. Her mom, sister (notice how they are holding hands), and her dad. - All Smiles.
She also drew her dreams — families with lots of children, all beaming with joy. Those drawings gave me insight: her castles of imagination weren’t just fantasy. They were her dreams and views of safety, stability, and love.
My own childhood had happy moments too, but it was complicated. In my youngest years, I found stability with my mom, my grandma, and my aunt. But I also knew the shadows of monsters and dragons — the kind that rob innocence and fuel fear. The abuse was in plain sight, though hidden, and it showed up in night terrors. My mom never knew of the dragons. If she had, she would have been the fiercest dragon slayer that has ever walked the earth.
When she became a single mother after a painful divorce, she carried the weight with courage and grace. She did a phenomenal job of raising me, even when life was far from easy. And then, one day, something extraordinary happened. I met a man who would later become my stepdad — my knight in shining armor. Fittingly, I met him at the beach, not far from the sandcastles of my childhood. He didn’t set out to be a hero, but through his steady, everyday love, he became my protector. Without realizing it, he kept the villains away and quietly slayed the dragons that haunted my early years.
Corey’s imagined future family — complete with names and ages. Her hope was always rooted in love and belonging.
Time moved forward, and I grew up to meet my own prince charming. Together we built a family, raising two beautiful princesses. I couldn’t give Corey the large family she so often dreamed about in her drawings, but I could give her what mattered most: a mother, father and grandparents who were present, involved, and loving. A home where laughter and safety lived side by side. For a time, it felt like the happily ever after I once only imagined. There were no dragons, no monsters… at least, not yet.
There’s also a mystery, a miracle, that ties mothers and daughters together in ways deeper than we often realize. A baby girl is born with all the eggs she will ever have. That means when I was a baby in my mother’s womb, the egg that would one day become Corey was already present inside of me. Three generations — grandmother, mother, granddaughter — present in one body, a hidden strand of connection running like a golden thread.
Three generations together — a living reflection of the golden thread that binds us
That bond is more than biology. It’s fierce love, passed down and multiplied. The way my mom loved me became the way I loved my daughters. And that love built more than castles of sand and stories — it built foundations of belonging, imagination, and hope. Foundations strong enough to carry us through the dragons that would one day come.
A simple but powerful truth in Corey’s own hand: “I love my Mommy.” ……
💙And oh my dear, how very deeply I love you
Every castle we build — in sand, in stories, in love — carries pieces of who we are and who we dream to be. May your story be built with hope, laughter, and fierce love, even when the dragons come.
🏰 💙 Jen