I have often told my writing friends that nothing trumps family. Each micro-period of life and growth should be required awareness as we pass through, both the good and the bad. There’s an old saying: “Life is what happens to you while you make other plans.” Or in some instances, “Life is what happens to you while you’re wading in knee-deep muck,” like washing soiled diapers in the toilet, or longing for silence and then wondering what the kids are up to when the silence comes or sleepless nights or school problems or house problems or work problems or health problems or, or, or…
Our grandbaby and her parents came for a visit this past weekend. It might be the only time they are in the state all year. Consequently, I did no writing. Did I feel badly about it? Not an iota. It was a marvelous weekend, each moment as precious as the one before or after. When they left yesterday afternoon, my hubby suited up and rushed out the door for work. I was alone when our Southwest son called. He knows me too well. I must have hesitated or greeted him in a cracked voice because he immediately asked, “What’s wrong, Mom?” His call was too close to the departure of the others, and he’d just acknowledged my feelings of missing without me having said anything about it. We and he had an awesome time earlier this summer when he visited for a week. I confessed that I always get weepy when first separated from family, even after seeing him off at the airport.
I love my family.
Our “boys” are out on their own now. I know it’s unrealistic to want us to live closer. We get together when we can. And each moment together is precious — more precious than the moment before or after.
(Go hug your kid or spouse, or call a distant family member. Nothing trumps family.)