A Parenting Digression



Carrying the holy books through a humid, waxing morning, the distance getting longer as we get closer. The boy discusses light sabres. My leg screams at me as I force it not to limp.

My mind is elsewhere and everywhere as we walk, now that summer is fading. Changes and contingencies, emotions and evocations, politics both near and far. So much to make sense of but so little sense to go around.

The boy has moved on already, conjecturing a familial tie between Yoda and ET, and that Jack Sparrow would handily defeat Obi Wan Kenobi.

Even his nonsense is my nonsense.

When he reaches the question of why droids wear no clothing, I stop him, fearing the natural extension of the concept.

"I need to get my mind in a peaceful place before synagogue…" I explain half-heartedly, controlling exasperation.

He falls silent, the sound of his sandals shuffling echoing on the early morning pavement. He is thinking hard.

The boy looks at me with uncertain green eyes and speaks with nine year old conviction.

"In our world, there is no peaceful place."

He looks at me, hoping I will disprove him, dispute him, deny him.

With no words possible, I simply look back at him, at myself.

He nods and we walk on in silence.

Finally sitting in the presence of my faith, I watch him pray as the song lilts around us. “Renew our lives as in days of old.” I can only stare at the single hovering light, as if looking back in time.

God grant him better luck with sense and nonsense.


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