We’re at a small plastic playground attached to the local school, no more than a glorified Little Tykes play area. But, Pierson enjoys running, climbing, & exploring there. As he plays, he reaches down to pick up what I suspect to be a flower.
He fists the item and proudly brings it over to me. “Mommy Hold It?” I take the flower- an ugly, half-blown dandelion. A smile creeps onto my face. Exultant eyes look to me then ask, “Mommy Smell It?” As I reach my nose down to smell the spent dandelion, a littler face nudges even closer and loudly exhales through its crinkled nose, an action Pierson equates to smelling. “MMMMM smells good!”
He’s proud of his flower. I show him how to blow the little seeds and his eyes sparkle with discovery. He gallops off to find another flower.
Many of my days are like that dandelion. I’m half-spent. Like the ocean’s waves, lies perpetually whisper in my ear that beauty is evasive and cannot be attained. Often my parenting days consist of frantic wandering, just trying my best to stay afloat. But as I ponder the situation, I am quickly reminded that it’s in the mundane where beauty is found. And that the life I live, albeit most days unremarkable, is truly beautiful.
Thanks for the lesson, son. I love you.
