What do you see when you look at this?
I used to just see a hard wood floor, one that typically needs cleaning. A hard wood floor that I try my best to keep dry when both two footed and four footed swimmers run through the house after a dip in our pool.
Carter traced a finger over a dark vertical line, then dipping down, and spiking back up again. He then proceeded to tell me that this looked like our COVID cases – up, then down, then up and up and up. And then hopefully dropping, dropping, down again. After a pause, he flopped back on the couch and told me that he never thought he would miss school as much as he does. I asked questions and he answered: What do you miss most about school? Are you worried about going back to school? What worries you? Why do you feel that way? How can I help?
He hears the news. He hears Husband and I talk. He knows I am worried about going back into the classroom as a teacher. He knows I have looked into other educational options for him and his brother. He knows there is no way in Hell they are riding the bus to school this year (but he also knows that I have no idea how we will get them to and from, if indeed that ends up being our educational plan for them).
We stared at the floor as the conversation, like a path in the woods that is not quite a path, peters out, the forest closing in.