Did you see the people in front of you today? Really see them?
Tonight, following an afternoon of watching Doc McStuffins and playing pick-up football, after emptying backpacks of worksheets and lunchboxes of uneaten teddy grahams, after a dinner of taco salads (and fruit and yogurt and cheese since the kids didn’t want taco salads), after donning tiny arms and legs into mismatched pjs– I finally saw my family.
I mean, I had seen them the entire afternoon, but I finally saw them, you know?
They were sitting on the couch: Sophie tucked under Jacob’s right arm, Ellie in his lap twirling her curls, and Cohen on his left, his eyes gazing curiously at the book before him. Jacob was reading Cohen’s shark book patiently for the 8th consecutive night (he had to renew it from the school library today because we are only on page 59 of 100).
And I saw my heart in the people across from me; I saw them as beautiful, holy, utterly and unutterably significant. The people I love most in the world were inches away from me. I could touch their skin and feel their warmth and hear their breathing.
And I realized I was with the people I loved. I saw them.
Like me, some of you are able to share physical space with the people who hold your heart. But- strangely and sadly enough- we forget they hold our hearts precisely because they are there– on grumpy Monday mornings and exhausting Wednesday afternoons– they’re living and resting with us, sharing with us a particular corner of this vast and often overwhelming world.
Tonight I realized (remembered?) I get to live with the people I love most.
Will you remember, too?