"Who's that, Mommy?" my son asks, his red-rimmed eyes peeking over the edge of the SUV's large window frame, struggling to lift his head from the virus that decided to take over his body Thanksgiving week.
I strained through my blind spot to see what he was observing, determined to answer all of his curious questions in an effort to whet his growing appetite of the world. As the car slows near the red light, I spot a woman teetering in the grass nearby who I may have inappropriately assumed was out of her mind, flailing her hands, talking to herself, not dressed in enough clothing for the cool fall air, a tattered sign dragging in her loose fingers and a small plastic bag dangling out of the other hand. As I struggle to come up with an age-appropriate, PC answer, I hear my son say:
"That's a lady. A nice lady. She's looking for flowers."
There it was: the perfect answer.
What a gift to see the world in this light. May he hold on to that forever. And may we inhale in little bits and pieces of it too.
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