Lenten Reflections #27
Yesterday was like the olden days (one year ago). My husband and I dashed home from work, went to our son’s tennis match, then to our youngest’s baseball game. Bottom of the third inning, I slid out, and picked up my daughter for her Senior “End-of-swim-season awards ceremony”. Three back-to-back activities, three talented and busy kids, and three groups of parents, grandparents, friends, and kids I hadn’t seen in months.
Following a full year of distancing, masking, virtual school and limited sports,
It felt like an oxygen mask had dropped down to resuscitate me as we swapped stories of our children’s triumphs and tumbles and our own precious and prickly moments. This ‘Parenting CPR’ rejuvenated my spirit after not seeing families I would typically laugh and commiserate with at least once per week.
Upon leaving the quick celebration, we took group photos where masked faces with young, bright eyes stared back at us full of emotional and physical exhaustion from home schooling and so much hope that their “olden days” would return sooner than later. We all gave brave side hugs, and said good night.
“See you at graduation!” said one Dad. Just a few more months and we’ll have made it through this.
E.L. Doctorow said once said that ‘Writing a novel is like driving a car at night. You can see only as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.’ You don’t have to see where you’re going, you don’t have to see your destination or everything you will pass along the way. You just have to see two or three feet ahead of you. This is right up there with the best advice on writing, or life, I have ever heard.”–Anne Lamott
On Faith and Fitness:
Perhaps placing our own oxygen masks on first will help us support others and help them find the breath they desperately need.