“Can you see me now?” asks the little boy. “Mommy, can you see?” It’s simple—she can see him, or he can be hidden—what more could there be?
The mother looks at the images in her mind—sleeping child, crying child, playing child, trying child. She hears him laugh but half of her’s still trying to soothe his tears, till the next time.
Bubbles float in the air round his head, each carrying its fraction of his life. Bright faces smile.
“Can you see me now?”
“Yes son.” She sees a thousand of him there, and loves them all.