I can’t remember the context or the location, just the words. “I hated it when my parents wouldn’t come look at what I was doing.”
I stared at him, my manly husband who rarely spoke of childhood except to recount a few crazy adventures. And I stored this idea in my heart and vowed to try and look more.
But on busy days, when ice has caused a leak in the dining room ceiling and the oldest had misplaced her inhaler, again, it is hard to stop and share observations of the new sprout in the garlic bulb she planted. Because I looked yesterday and the day before too. And kids need to learn that life sometimes propels us forward at a pace where we can’t stop and we certainly can’t see. That they are not the center of the universe.
Still, I made a mental note and managed to respond to her request without the irritation I felt, ” I will try to look later, dear, but I am busy right now.”
I meant to look. Really, really I did. Still, when ceiling mess falls on the dining room table and there’s packing to do for a trip and nagging reminders to feed the pets and “pick up the mess you just made,” it slippeds from my to-do list. And I can feel why a kid like my husband, curious and active, might feel like no one looked.
In the morning, tea and Bible in hand, sitting on my usual perch, God nudged that sprout and my husband’s words back to my heart. Knowing how life goes and that I might forget again, I wrote a note and stuck it next to that sprout that said, “I think the garlic is getting taller. Can you smell it yet?” Because I knew she would check again.
Joining Lisa Jo and fellow word lovers for a 5-minute write, no overthinking allowed. The word today: SEE. Won’t you join us?