Our harrowing escape made our walk through the rest of our neighborhood that much more enjoyable.
On the way home, The Kid started worrying that we hadn't done anything for Mother's Day and started to pick weeds out of a neighbors yard. It was the prettiest flower she could find. I started to protest, we have plenty of weeds in our own yard, but The Kid insisted because she wanted Mama to have something beautiful from our walk. We ended up with a few pockets full of maple seeds and her flower.
Mama was appropriately, genuinely excited. There wasn't a rush to say something nice and throw the treasure out. That flower ended up in a plastic tumbler with a little water in it. It's a little worse for wear, although it has lasted for a few weeks on our kitchen table with very little attention paid to it from any of us.
That walk through the enchanted forest and that flower have stuck with me the past few weeks. I've thought a lot about the little gifts The Kid likes to bring home for us. Artwork from school, "flowers" and rocks from a walk, treats from the gas station. I've reflected on why I have not been blogging and journaling as much as I should for my mental fitness. I've contemplated how I'll fit grad school into my life without sacrificing family time and while helping a good friend win elected office. I've pondered our first year attending Metropolitan United Methodist Church and my faith in general. I will always weigh if I am being patient and compassionate enough for my daughter.
Thankfully, our walk through the enchanted forest set me on that course of reflection, which spurred me into writing again. Maybe we need more walks like that.