Our little Quinn had a bit of a difficult time this past month. He had sinus congestion, which led to a cough, wheezing, and a double ear infection. Though he was never in serious trouble, Margaret and I are relieved that he’s recovering, and has finished a round of antibiotics.
I lay on the couch, Quinn giggling and smiling at me. He slowly drifted asleep, his tiny frame on my chest, rising and falling in time with my own breathing. As I listened to him softly wheeze, I reflected on how raising children could be so wonderful and so difficult, at the same time. It’s probably because life is so wonderful and so difficult, at the same time. But were it not for the small challenge that my little infant faced, I would not have known the tender, womb like embrace of a mother. If I did not know the tenderness of a mother’s embrace, I would not have been able to produce this painting. And suddenly, from the commingling of wheezing and giggling, pain and joy, shadow and light, a divine chiaroscuro.