My daughter is a being of pure energy. For me, she exists not so much as a child as an unstoppable force in a child's guise. So, seeing her laid low--even with something so clearly insignificant in the grand scheme of things--fills me with fear. I am made painfully aware of my own weakness and the flimsy pretense of invincibility with which I cloak myself and those I love most.
Today, it is not joy that connects me with others I know. Instead, it is this: we have all walked in a great darkness, and we walk in darkness still. Sometimes as we walk, we tell stories or sing songs. Sometimes we hold hands or fall asleep in each other's arms. Sometimes we laugh or cry or simply stare in silence.
As the snow falls in tonight's darkness, I imagine it is falling not just here but in Ohio and Michigan and Illinois, in Kentucky and Tennessee, in New York and Massachusetts.
