Can I Feel the Wind on My Face, Mommy?
How our daily commute sheds light on the metaphors of wind
“If the wind brushes against you, do not complain; it brushes against everyone.”
― Matshona Dhliwayo
“Can I feel the wind on my face for a minute, mommy?” My sweet, 5-year old asks every morning — on our half-hour commute.
“Yes, honey, of course, you can,” I always say as I roll down the window, glance at the rearview mirror, and watch my boy close his eyes and smile. His rusty brown hair flows in all directions.
This is one of my favorite daily occurrences.
These days, when venturing in public resembles a dystopian novel, political flags appear everywhere, and contention remains thick; a simple moment, when my son asks, “Mommy can I feel the wind for a few minutes?” brings me back to earth.
Because every time he asks me this, it reminds me of how lucky we are to be alive.
“You could not stop the winds and you could not stop Time. It went on and on,-and on.”
― Bess Streeter Aldrich
“Can you feel the wind?” he asks. “Can you feel it?” He repeats, eager for my answer.
I nod and laugh — happiness resonates through my bones.
