Daughter will accompany me to the office today while her mom knocks out a Pediatric Advanced Life Support Course. She’s used to this gig. She knows how to entertain herself in an empty office while her dad is in meetings down the hall. Only now the meeting is upstairs.
On Sunday she had free reign of the place for about an hour and did not fail to take advantage. Her preferred haunt? The massive, empty second floor chapel with the labyrinth painted on the floor and the window overlooking shoppers on Michigan Avenue. It’s where she wants to spend this morning, too.
My soul practically recoils left alone in cavernous spaces like that. Hers expands to fill them.