As I prepared these pictures of my bright-eyed grandson, Jobe, for today's post, I could not help but think repeatedly of the equally bright-eyed children of Japan who have lost their homes, or even their lives, who have been displaced, and now live in dire circumstance.
In contrast to that, being very much aware of the arbitrary of this life and knowing that what hits Japan today can hit Alaska tomorrow, I begin today's happy essay with this image of my grandson, Jobe, who has discovered that with the help of his little wagon, he can now toddle about the house.
But oh, no! He falls on his butt. He looks up into my eyes (note that in this picture I am holding the camera low and off to the side in front of Jobe, so those are my feet and legs that you see to the left and he is indeed looking into my eyes) and cries. He wants me to pick him up, to comfort him, to put him back on his feet.
"It's okay, Jobe," I tell him. "You don't need me to help you. You can get up. You can do it yourself."
Jobe realizes that he must do this for himself. He begins to get up.
Jobe is up, a little bit unsure of himself, but ready to go again. In the background, his Uncle Caleb prepares to putt an imaginary golf ball.
Off Jobe goes, as Caleb putts his golf ball through the roof and 400 yards down the road.
Jobe dashes into a sun beam.
He rounds the corner toward the kitchen...
...he passes by the kitchen table...
...gleefully, he charges through the kitchen, his fall forgotten.
Then back into the living room where he will do it all again... and again... and again...
I had to do some other things, so I retreated to my office as Jobe continued to wagon-toddle his laps. After a bit, I heard someone pounding on the window in front of my computer, where Jimmy likes to sit, bask in the sun and watch for moose, ravens, little birds and whatever else he might see out there.
I stood up, lifted the curtain and there was Jobe, looking in at Jimmy and me.
How did he ever grow to be so tall, so fast?
Later still, I stepped back into the house and saw that, using a couch for support, he had risen to his feet all on his own. He reached out for me.
So I took his little hand, and the two of us went walking. Again, in this picture, I am holding the camera away from me, so as to get my hand in the picture. Again, he is looking straight into my eyes.
And all this happened as children in Japan struggled for their very lives.
Let us not forget them even as we live our own lives.