This morning my wife said to me, “Something is smelling in Chase’s room. I don’t know what, but something.”
I had no response, because I cannot smell like she can. Long ago I gave up arguing and realized that some people have more nose than others. If she smells it, she smells it. And she smells it “in Chase’s room.”
Chase is my married son who has not inhabited that room in nine years. His baseball pennants and posters are long gone. So: the space belongs to someone who is not there and no longer has any tangible connection to it; and it smells of something indefinable that I cannot detect.
I understand what she said. I believe it to be true. But I understand and believe on the basis of memory and trust. As is frequently so with other intangibles, such as love. Such as faithfulness. Such as God.