Cherishing the ones you love

The day that Kolbe died, I didn't pet him.  We were busy- I don't remember exactly with what now; I think I went to the store in the morning, we converted George's crib to a bed that afternoon and then went to a parish dinner in the evening.  I do remember sitting on the loveseat in the reading nook after I got home from the store and seeing him sitting next to the sandbox, rather gingerly, in the snow. The boys had gone into the woods, but he didn't seem to have the energy to follow them that day, so he sat in the snow, waiting for them.  He was sitting so still that I asked Joe if he thought Kolbe was ok.  A short time later, we saw him get up, so my worries were put to rest.  By the time he came inside with the boys I was on to another something to keep me busy, so I didn't really notice him again.  The last time I took note of him was when he was sitting in the snow, listening for our boys.

When I found him that evening, I immediately had a pang of guilt. When was the last time I had pet him? Talked to him? The night before? I had grown so used to having him around- to letting him out to potty, to getting him food and water, to him just being just part of life around here, that even though I cared for him, I didn't always notice him as a living, breathing part of our family.

In the nights that have followed, when my mind wonders to him and this fact, it has forced me to assess the rest of my family.  I care for them, certainly. I cook meals, I wash laundry, I clean house, I get snacks, I wipe tushies, I help with homework, I nurse, I clothe. But in all that caring, I often forget about the day to day noticing.  And even though my kids are young and Joe and I are certainly not old, none of us is guaranteed a tomorrow. Without being morbid, I forced myself to think of what it would be like if I lost one of them, with no notice. And how I would feel about my behavior towards them in those last days, weeks, months. I love them, I care for them but I would want them to know, without a doubt, that I cherish them. Truly.  Joe, Isabelle, Isaac, Liam, Adelle and George are the six greatest gifts that God has given me and nothing on Earth is more important.

I would like to say that my behavior since this revelation has been without reproach. But I am a work in progress.  I am still selfish, distracted and snappy at times. I am working on it.  Being distracted is what I view as one of my bigger obstacles.  I had actually decided to give up my Kindle for Lent even before all of this. It was too tempting- the internet with all of it's mindless distraction, just a few feet away at all times. It was almost always more exciting than just sitting and drinking coffee, or just doing homework or just playing cars.

I don't want my children or husband to think back on me, on our time together, to remember how I looked with my face glowing in the light of a screen. Mindless distraction isn't worth it.  I want them to know that I am all in- I love them, I seek to know them better, I care for them and that I cherish them.