I’ve been reading Emily’s blog for a while, and so much of what she writes resonates with me. Today she talked about “discovering the gifts in the midst of the ordinary”. I admit that I am a miserable failure at this. Emily asked her readers to Unwrap our Tuesday and see the gift in the small things. The small things that go unnoticed, that slip and shimmer away before we can really grasp them.
I was sitting here thinking about it, and all I could think of was how many arguments I had to referee today, how many loads of laundry, how many shirts ironed, how many times my train of thought or activity was interrupted. I couldn’t see past it.
So I sat, feeling lousy about the fact that I really didn’t see the joy or gift in the day. I sat and listened the thunder storming outside, and felt the thunder storming a bit on the inside. I sat, and then I heard my sweet baby girl crying out for me from her bed. The thunder had stirred her enough to make her cry, but not enough to fully wake her up. She didn’t speak, she just held out her arms for a hug, and let me bury my face in her neck and smell her hair and feel her breath on my cheek. It was a gift.
It won’t be like this for very long. This I know from experience. My oldest doesn’t cry for me or hold out her arms in the night. She doesn’t let me nuzzle into her sleep damp neck and smooth her hair and kiss her face all over. She still needs me, but not in the way that unwraps and unfolds like a gift, like a sleepyheaded, sweet breathed late night gift.
For more Tuesday’s Unwrapped check out Emily’s blog, Chatting at the sky.