This morning Richard and I watched in silent wonder as Lillian played with her menagerie of horses and pretty ponies. They traveled from her room tucked securely in her pink baby stroller. She arranged them ever-so carefully on the table in the living room. Introducing each horse by parading it past the others until it found its designated spot in her elaborate display.

There was some conversation between the horses. But we couldn’t hear clearly enough to understand. We didn’t want to interrupt or be discovered. So we just observed her living in her own imaginary world.

Then, after a few moments, my dear spouse turned to me and said, “That’s beautiful. She’s amazing.” Then ended it with a sigh and a sobering completely male where’s-the-practicality-in-what-I-am-witnessing: “What is to become of her?”