The motion is simply back and forth but to a four-year-old, it’s reaching the stars on the “back” and familiar hands propelling him with the “forth.” Whatever thoughts contain a youngster are exchanged with the glory of this arc-movement. His only responsibility is a slight kick to keep “reaching the stars.”
The “back” are dad’s strong hands that held him for the first time four years ago and now pushes his smiling son toward the sky. “The sky,” it’s only about eight-feet upward and then back to those familiar hands.
What’s dad thinking about? It’s tonight’s pending supper because his wife’s not feeling well. “Weiner’s again? Oh, why not. There’s some macaroni somewhere in the pantry. How long should I keep pushing him? Just look at his smile, it’s wide open when the air hits my small guy with just an eight-foot expansion.”
Is the pliable boy now, at most an astronaut or a gravelly-sounding airline pilot ready to tell his passengers that their upward trip is about to begin? By dad’s clock, the whole event is measured by time but for his son, it’s timeless energy needing to be spent.
The whole experience is over in less than ten minutes but the bonding is forever kept somewhere – within the youngster’s young mind this small event is captured and stored in a mind’s place that is never retrieved but felt, dad’s mind is stored with another chance to be with his son while wondering what college will cost in fourteen years.
The two of them return to the house – son running but dad slowly walking, not because it’s “Weiner-night-again” but what a great son he has and his prayerful hope that his son “reaches for the stars” in whatever he says or does.
Rev. Joe Jagodensky, SDS.
Soulful Muse 