What Happens When We Don't Stop to Notice

Today, my second oldest asked if I wanted to hear a composition she wrote today, and it honestly brought me to near tears, hearing the beauty she plucked out of the air, point and counter point, all over the course of three hours with a computer.   I sat memorized by what she merely considered the creation of the moment; for her a toss away of notes, for me, a glimpse into some of the depth she so often keeps veiled, at times a both and combination of entirely new, and achingly familiar.   She lamented that only half of the piece would be incorporated into a bigger work she's producing for graduate school after it finished, and went to show her creation to her siblings.   

I held onto the strands in my head to the best of my ability, because I want to be able to hear what she created, to hold it like we try to hold childhood in our hands, and can't.  What happens when were not looking? They grow up.  They surprise you with text message saying "Love you." They volunteer to serve.  They say yes when you thought for sure they would say no.   What they do when you're busy worrying about the next thing, is remind you to be in the moment, in this moment, and to trust that somehow, something epic is going on.  This past week, my son scored the go ahead basket.  His brother saw it, because I was at another game, watching his sister play.

I'd be lying if I didn't say I felt envious, of having missed that basket.  Still, there are important moments, like staying for a game where your kid doesn't get off the go ahead shot.  Those moments when there is no reason to cheer, and still, you show up and you cheer, they matter almost more, because the kid needs the cheers more.   Parenting is about being there in the long moments in between the epic and hoping your contributions, your spontaneous cheers both in the big and little times, somehow leave an impression.   Like water cupped in the hands, like childhood memories, like a made shot, it remained only as having been experienced, not as something I could keep. 

What would have happened if I hadn't stopped to notice, to listen?  I would have missed an epic shot of beauty.  What have I learned in parenting these people?  Be present. Be present. Be present. Everything else, can wait.

Over at the Register

The March for Life is next week.  I submitted a piece from my own personal history of writing that addresses some of the other vulnerable threatened by those who do not think human life is sacred in all of its stages, and that each person irrespective of physical, mental, moral or economic condition, is of infinite worth.    While I have more current stories from my father's battle with the same condition, this piece talking about my grandmother brings the point home rather nicely.

Over at W.I.N.E. Today

In my attempt to bridge out of my comfort zone, I'm writing for new places. Towards that end, I signed up to do a scripture reflection for four dates over the course of the year.  Here's my first entry:  My Honey-Do List for the Lord.