while trying to get through the evening traffic
it's been a very long day. I look at the incandescent beauty of the city while rain is falling quietly outside and Tony Bennett's "Have yourself a merry little Christmas" plays wistfully inside. I nestle my face into my husband's neck, overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude, and absorb images, thoughts and small details I will later write down on my journal.
Sean is sitting in the backseat and patting a little cardboard box that I've covered with holiday wrapping paper and gave to him to store up the leaves, rocks and other small treasures he collects on the way back from school and usually keeps tucked away in his pocket.
"Mommy! look! the Eiffel Tower! look! she's throwing lights!" he says, his little face glowing contentedly.
"where? where?" Will asks as he traces away the fog on the car window.
"there! see it?" Sean insists.
"nooooo! it's gone Mommy! the Eiffel Tower is gone!"
when he was 2, Will's intense fascination with the Eiffel Tower and numbers threw us into a state of confusion, and then panic after he scored 142 on an IQ test six months ago. a few days later, we saw him bang his head against his pillow until he almost passed out laughing. we knew then that things would be okay.
"Will, on your left, the other window" I say smiling, "the Eiffel Tower is over there."
Nov 27, 2006
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