By John R. Greenwood
Floor-joy-minutes sooth all pain from the inside out. There is no sunshine whose rays could warm the heart with such connection and calm. A bundle of boy, playful and curious, sitting baby level with the father of his. This scene pulls to the surface a reminder of the days when I would lay eye to eye with my own sons, Matchbox and coloring books scattered across the room of living and life. Time escaped somewhere when my back was turned, only to return with the sound of a babbling baby telling his tales of discovery. My breathing, reduced to a snails pace, turns the moment into a slow-motion movie.