As my boys were growing up they were involved in the usual team sports, soccer (AYSO-all your Saturdays occupied), basketball and baseball with thankfully only one season of football thrown in.  My husband and I being the dedicated parents we thought we were supposed to be, were not content to sit on the sidelines and the majority of the time we found ourselves as coach, assistant coach, ref, team mom, etc.  There always seemed to be need and not enough volunteers.  Though the sports merry-go-round seemed to constantly spin and at times was overwhelming, those are memories that I cherish.  

What I found fascinating as time went on, however, was I didn’t cherish the game to game, practice to practice time of it.  Rather, the memories are painted in broad strokes of color and emotion with only a few clear pictures.  One of the clearest was when my youngest son decided to not play basketball on the varsity team at the high school.  The decision caught me unaware as he had been playing ‘hoops’ since he could walk.  His first word was ball and his first sentence or compound word was basketball.  I had thought I would watch him play this sport that he so enjoyed, for many years to come.  But it was not my decision, it was his.  As I faced accepting his choice one of the things I mourned the most was the last game I had watched him play.  Not knowing it was the last I truly wasn’t there for most of it.  Sure, I was in the stands, clapping and cheering, but I couldn’t have even told you who the opposing team was or what color the uniforms had been.  I couldn’t even recall a single play or basket that I had watched my son execute.  Was this really important in the grand scheme of things?  A JV basketball game that was not going to change how the sun came up in the morning?  No, but for me it did bring into sharp relief at the time how many times I experience or witness something for the last time without realizing the significance.  Something I have taken for granted and while I may have enjoyed it I wasn’t really present.  

Ironically, as the years have passed, despite this aha moment, I encounter again and again, moments like this.  Times when I have physically been there, I have participated on some level, but my mind has been preoccupied with work to do, how I look, where I am to be afterwards or any number of concerns that take me out of the moment and I miss fully experiencing something that will not happen again.  And so the lesson repeats.  Be present.  Immerse yourself in this moment.   Use all five senses and hold it dear to your heart because the truth of life is we aren’t always given the information before hand this will be the last time.  And yet, wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could treat each interaction, each experience, each meal and savor it as if it was the last?  

Sitting in shelter at home these days has lead to much reminiscing and reflection but also to many moments of just being present.  Moments to appreciate the simple things of being able to still walk with my dog in our neighborhood, the ability to breathe without assistance, to hold my husband’s hand or hear my son’s voice on the phone.  So I am practicing again, embracing today, this moment in all its glory and hoping that once life resumes again I remember.  It is today, this moment that matters.

Wishing you dear friend moments to be present and treasure, no matter the circumstance on your heartfelt journey.  ~♥~