Aug 18


Photo 69My son, Isaac, who just turned six years old always asks the most interesting questions.

Conversation 1:

    Isaac: “Mommy, what is a brain?”

    Me: “Well, it’s a…it’s the thing inside your head that looks like a clump of cooked spaghetti noodles. It helps you to think and feel.”

Conversation 2:

    Isaac: “Mommy, does everyone die?”

    Me: “Yes, Isaac, everyone will eventually die.”

    Isaac: “Even people in Kansas?”

But one of the most interesting questions was one he posed the other day.

    Isaac: “Mommy, what is a life?”

    Me: “Um…ah…well, well it’s a…let’s see…Here Isaac, why don’t you have a glass of milk?”

Questions like this used to scare me. Fear of not knowing, of not being sure beyond any doubt always made made me feel out of control. Kind of like I was teetering on a skinny branch at the top of the tallest tree, being blown back and forth by the wind.

But now I like those questions. Instead of making me afraid they make me smile.

Smile at the fact that life is beautiful and hard. And that I might not know all the answers, but I do know about what is important. And it’s not whether or not I feel in control. It’s whether I love and laugh and live.

And so now, when the questions come and I am once more up in the tallest tree on the skinniest branch I think, isn’t the view perfect, doesn’t the wind blowing against my face make me feel so alive?

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