I remember walking through the terminal at Huntsville International Airport after returning from this trip and spotting Lea and Aaron. As soon as Aaron, 3, saw me, he pointed, smiled, and started jumping up and down. I’ll never forget the sight as long as I live. I’m tearing up thinking about it.
The four of us celebrated our reunion with a big hug. A stranger actually tapped me on the shoulder and said “that’s great that you’re so into your family. Thank you.”
(I’ll never forget that either.)
I was reminded of that moment last night when Aaron didn’t feel well.
It’s nothing that’s not true day in and day out, but looking across the living room at him I was struck with the safety and security he feels to know he’s home and this is where he checks out if he needs to. What an awesome duty it is for me to keep that flowing for him, yes?
We parents are acutely aware of our children, and our responsibilities for them, every moment. Even so, I also think that in our respective consciousnesses, most of the time we protect ourselves emotionally from the true nature of those relationships. You can’t consider it too closely. You have to isolate yourself from it somewhat to be able to do it at all. It’s too big. It’s too profound.
Ask me how glad I am I quit smoking.
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Love this.
Those moments of clarity when I take the long view and try to wrap my head around the enormity of parenthood are terrifying. It makes me think of all those parents around the world in war-ravaged, insecure places that don’t have the same luxury. They live in that moment every second.
Thank you, Stephenie, and I’ve had those thoughts too. There are all manner of terrible things that could plausibly befall millions of children without constant effort to prevent them, and sometimes even then.
It’s a good perspective restorative.