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Rich in love, or just rich?

Photo on 1-27-13 at 7.40 PM #4.jpg

After a long day of playing and sliding and splashing and jump-castling, Blake and I walked home. Hand in hand, down the sidewalk. Then, when we were just one house away from ours, he wanted to stop.  

"I want to see the castle go down," he said. So I unfolded the camping chair right there on the sidewalk, and sat. Blake crawled into my lap and we watched the plastic palm trees sink into the cul-de-sac. And then he said (probably because I was scratching his back and tickling his arm), "Mommy,  do you know that I love you, and Daddy and Dillon and Cate do too?"

"Yes, I do," I replied, thinking about how often I forget. Even when I'm feeling unlovable, unloving and unloved, I am loved. "And that makes me the luckiest girl in the world."

I had about one whole second to consider the sweetness and comfort of that, and then he asked, "Mommy, do you know when I'm lucky?" 


 "When I get money!" And he said it like mun-ay! and threw out his hands like a game show host. 

It is, indeed, all about perspective.  


 My friend Andra Watkins has written a series of posts on her blog about road-tripping (in separate cars) with her mother to visit her late grandmother's property in Eastern Kentucky. In this post she asks, "Are we richer without money?" and observes "the shared harmony of enough." It seems to complement Blake's idea about money and love and luck. And since Andra appreciates Blake's sense of humor, I hope she won't mind that I've linked her words with the deep thoughts of an almost four-year-old. 


The eye of the beholder

These are days