The carnival came to town last week. I was running errands with my 88 year old mother when she saw it spread over what used to be the library lawn. "I always loved the carnival," she said.
A day or so later we were traveling the same road when she commented on the carnival again.
"Wouldn't it be fun to ride the ferris wheel again."
"Would you do it?" I asked. She didn't answer.
And so Saturday afternoon, we kidnapped Mom and Dad and took them to the carnival. We sat on a bench and ate cajun shrimp and snow cones and watched the people go by.
And Mom and I rode the ferris wheel. We laughed at the sign that warned about rocking the car (while our car rocked) and waved at Dad and Alan as they watched from below. She told me about riding the rollar coaster with her first beau. And I thought about life and love and being young and growing old and the eternal circle of things.
"I haven't been on a ferris wheel in fifty years!" she said.
There are moments when you know you are doing the right thing. And that was one of them.
