Spooky

The other day we were all in the park, playing and walking around through the trees. Lily was standing next to me and J. had gone to get something. Lily, tapping her finger to her lips, said, "I'm trying to think of something." Then she looked over at J. walking towards us, and said, "I wish Dad could use his wings to fly."

Poetry. It's beautiful, listening to her put words together to make fascinating sentences. And yet, it also spooked me a bit. It's probably just me being superstitious, but I felt like she was talking about J. like he was an angel, like, as in, dead. Eek! It gave me a little shiver.