Finding home

This weekend, I found myself wandering the streets of my old neighborhood with my son, who was last there when he was four years old. Our first stop was at our neighborhood bookstore. When E was little, his favorite thing to do was climb the stairs to the children's room, choose a book from the spinning rack of paperback picture books, and pull himself into the huge leather chair in the corner. He was so proud when he could finally climb into the chair by himself, his feet barely reaching the...