“I wanted a perfect ending. Now I’ve learned, the hard way, that some poems don’t rhyme, and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what’s going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity.” ― Gilda Radner
Yesterday my six year old favorite
only daughter and I took a long walk where she urgently and impatiently informed me that she had “all of these questions about life.”
When I asked what they were she just shrugged and said she hadn’t figured them all out yet.
I smiled and told her that’s ok—that this is how I know she’s mine.
When we got back home her brothers casually mentioned they had built a trebuchet in the backyard—and a working one (I discovered) at that. Impromptu, “just because”… they had “an idea.”
Later, I laid out in the hammock, and read, and watched them hurl things—all the while arguing over the exact right way to do the hurling.
Because, of course, there would be a “right way.”
I listened, smiled to myself, and pondered what a really interesting thing it is to fall in love with a person, create several mostly carbon copies of yourselves, and watch how life manifests itself in their eyes.
Sometimes, it’s hard—back breaking work, this gig we call life. Sometimes, it feels uphill all the way.
At other times though… on days like these, it’s simply bloody beautiful. Like magic—you haven’t quite figured out yet.
And you realize, maybe… that’s the whole point.