Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Learning to Fly


My son has learned to fly. Well, sort of. I grasp him firmly and lift him above my head and he stretches his arms and legs out like superman. From this new vantage point, he looks down at me and smiles. I told him tonight that it must be really cool to know how to fly, and that I would like to know how to fly, and how I wondered if he might teach me. He is 9 months old, and, obviously, is still unable to speak—at least with words. But he looked at me in that way he does and it seemed if he were saying, “Sure, dad, it’s simple to fly. All you have to do is find someone much stronger and much bigger than you are and who you trust more than anything else. And then you have to let them pick you up.”
Indeed, son. Indeed.

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