Do you ever wonder about the stories behind the things people are carrying?
We've been taking an evening walk after dinner. This evening, I was paying attention to the people we saw as we cruised our block.
A woman and her husband, each carrying a plate with slices of pizza balanced on them. The woman carried a guitar case. She seemed genuinely happy to see Teagan. Teagan barely noticed her- Teagan was far too busy pumping her legs on her tricycle. But I could see that seeing my daughter and my dog seemed to really bring this woman joy.
We round the corner.
A man and his teen son are crossing the street towards their car. The man is carrying a small, open corrugated box. The son is carrying roller blades, one in each hand. They are in a hurry. The man glances our way, catches my eye, we exchange pleasantries. The son makes no eye contact. They quickly get in the car.
I notice the old woman, standing behind the storm door of the house they've just left. I can't clearly see her face and I wonder if she is happy or sad... is she glad to have seen the man I assume is her son, the teen that I assume is her grandson... but sad that they have had to hurry off to their lives, their busy-ness?
We keep walking. I turn my focus on my daughter, to her joy at racing ahead on her Red Rider trike. My son, watching his big sister, dreaming of the day he can ride his own trike. I wonder who will walk by my house when I am standing in the door way, watching my own children go off to attend to their own busy-ness?