|me with the lovely Andrea Scher|
When I go home tomorrow and my husband and children meet me at the airport and ask me how it was, what do I want to remember? What will I tell them?
When I go back to the mundane of homework and lunches and book orders and school fund raisers what do I want to remember? What will pull me from my sadness and loneliness in that moment? What will I cherish from this weekend? What do I want to remember?
I want to remember that I was terrified but I showed up anyway.
I want to remember that I had no idea how I was going to pay for the airfare or hotel or car but that I showed up anyway.
I want to remember that I cried when I would've preferred to laugh. But I showed up anyway. I painted when I would've preferred to be taking pictures but I showed up anyway.
And because I showed up somebody tapped me on the shoulder and said, "thank you for your story."
And because I showed up somebody else hugged me and said, "I've been there."
And because I showed up I ate delicious food that I didn't have to prepare.
And because I showed up I felt alive and connected and scared and joyful and broken all at the same time. That's what I want to remember. That so much of all of this is about showing up. That sometimes, just sometimes, magic happens and wouldn't it be sad to miss out on that because I didn't feel like showing up?
I want to remember the lovely faces, the genuine smiles, the stories that brought each of us here at this very moment in time. I want to remember how I felt each day as I walked away from 27 Powers Ct, a little more introspective, a little wiser, a littler calmer.
|our fiercely compassionate guides|
Andrea Scher and Laurie Wagner