Becoming what is

Fort? Club house? Hide out?

This is what is left of what once was something developed from a thought. From my son.

I love the history and the promise.

It reminds me of being a kid. When I thought I really could dig all the way to China. And then decided I would just like it to be deeper than I was tall. And then realizing that I couldn’t get out.

Adventures. Imagination.

I believed if I thought hard enough, I could fly. If I trusted enough when I jumped that I would float and not fall. I was disappointed every time I hit the ground hard.

I remember when fantasies started forming in my mind. I would snap back into reality after hours of being somewhere else. Those fantasies so vivid that I still remember them clearly.

I wonder what was going on inside of my son’s head when he was building this. I love that he has his own world that he can build the way he wants. He can build what his life will become.

 

Dea Lorea

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