Oldest daughter — the one who looks like me — jabs a finger at the second-story window of my childhood home.
Eyes big, she begs: “Pleeeeeeease? Can we?”
She wants to go on the roof. Wants to push out the screen from the wood frame. Wants to skitter along the shingled angle, sit in the corner up high — where her mama used to hide in the shelter of tall evergreen spires.
She wants to lean against the cool north wall of a 110-year-old house. And there, she would devour words and watch clouds morph into sky-pictures and feel autumn breeze, scented pine.
Because this is what her mama did.
She waits, wonders: Would Mom dare do such a thing now, 30 years later? This mama who scolds of danger, who won’t put the car in drive until seatbelts are all clicked? This mom who still keeps plastic plugs in electrical outlets even though there’s no toddlers in the house?
I giggle, clap hands together, race to whisper our rooftop secret to sisters and niece. And we’re all eight-years-old again, and we don’t tell our Mom scrubbing pots down in the kitchen, because we think she just might worry.
Yes, yes, we would dare.
May your day be filled with spontaneous joy! (But be sure to wear your seatbelt. ~smile~)
“… Then you’ll be free to enjoy God!
Oh, I’ll make you ride high and soar above it all.”
— Isaiah 58:14 (The Message)
P.S. — What goes up, must come down. We climbed out through a second-story window, but we couldn’t get the screen back in from the inside. After getting the girls safely back inside, I had to scamper down the tree.