My second son is in his own place of discovery--no less wonderful to behold. I watch him as he stares at his own hand. He gets that this hand is his hand I think. But he is still trying to unlock the mystical connection between his hand and his hand moving where he wants it to move. Every day yields a little more progress on that front.
Both remind me of the importance, and the poignance, and the hard work of existing IN the in-between of not-knowing and knowing