It's early on a rainy Saturday morning and I'm sitting, alone, in Barista Parlor Golden Sound on Division Street, having a quiet cup of coffee. One couple beat me here this morning but they quickly departed after getting their coffee to go. The coffee shop - a cool one, for sure - is decorated for Christmas. In fact, Christmas music is playing on the turntable in one corner. In another corner, there's a small Christmas tree next to the ever present motorcycle.
It's peaceful in here, which matches my mood this morning. And, damn, the coffee at Barista Parlor is always good.
I've been thinking a lot about Joe lately. He's at such a great age, 8 1/2. There's still an innocence about him, which fills my heart and mind with a joyful wonderment, particularly since we're in the middle of the worst pandemic in modern history and facing a two or three month stretch this winter when things are going to get worse and worse.
When I picked him up from school earlier this week, Joe was excited when I asked if he wanted to ride in the front seat for our 1 mile + trip back to the house. His eyes lit up as he said "Yes!" and I'm certain he was smiling behind his tie dyed mask as he threw his heavy laden backpack in the back seat and climbed into the front seat on the passenger side of my truck.
Joe didn't think to remove his mask as he excitedly began to tell me about his day. It occurred to me how adaptable children are - and how adaptable Joe is - as he chattered away seemingly unaware he was wearing a mask. It made me a little sad, too, as I thought about how much has changed in our world in the past nine months, with the pandemic raging.
As we pulled out of the University School parking garage, I asked Joe if he wanted to go to the Belmont - TSU basketball game. His eyes widened as he looked at me. "Really?" he asked. "Sure," I replied. He shouted "YES!!" and began pumping his fists excitedly.
"How about we pick up Chago's for dinner?" I asked. "Really?" he asked, again. "Yeah," I said. "YES!!" he shouted, again pumping his fists.
I thought in the moment and again, later, how special it is that even still, such small things can make Joe happy. I wish I could keep it that way for a few more years. He has such a goodness about him. It's blissful and it's innocent. And it's so pure.
Joe does this thing that I love, when I call his name to ask him to do something. If I call out his name when he's in another room, he always answers "Yes?" in this melodious tone of voice.
It's hard to describe but that one word - "Yes?" - and the way he answers me when I call for him encapsulates all of the innocence of youth and a life ahead of him replete with limitless possibilities.
I've talked about "snapshot moments" before in this space and this is one for certain. I wish I could preserve for all time one of those indelible moments so I could replay it, again and again, when Joe is older and life become more complicated and, yes, a little bit harder.
This horrible pandemic has me, and all of us, on edge. People are dying every day. Three people in my office have tested positive for Covid-19 in past three weeks, one yesterday. I just texted an attorney friend who has the virus and whose father-in-law is in intensive care and on a ventilator. The next two or there months - the winter months - are going to be bad. Really bad.
Still, in the midst of it all, Joe continues to maintain his sense of innocence and naivete. And it's a pure and beautiful thing to behold.
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