We glide effortlessly on the wings of Saturday park laughter.
At one point, my daughter insists we go shopping. She directs me to a tree rising from the earth; a massive congregation of green.
My daughter and I gather stray pinecones; they become fruits, vegetables, and toys. One we call strawberry. Another we joke is a Malibu Barbie sports car.
Again, those wings of laughter lift us far above our concerns of needing to wear face masks and maintain a healthy distance from others.
Right then, my daughter is so overcome by glee she wraps her arms around my knee and hugs me.
Years from now, I’m not sure what she’ll remember of her four-year-old life and these pandemic days.
What I do know, however, is that forever engraved within me will be the blueprint of my daughter‘s embrace.
RichRant 