You are living the golden days (don't miss them)
If you stop for a moment and look around, you may realize something startling:
you are living the golden days.
It’s been chilly here in southwest Florida for the past few days - which coming from New York - I absolutely love. I love the break in between hot weather days. I love the excuse to wear oversized cozy sweaters and warm slippers. I love the urge to start a fire and camp around it. Make some smores and hot cocoa while sharing giggles under the stars. But today, the weather was just perfect. The cold air had softened and it was the perfect weather to spend outside.
My husband wanted to go to the park and we haven’t eaten lunch yet so I decided we should do a nice picnic at the park. As the burgers were sizzling on the stovetop, music humming in the background throughout the house (of course), I sliced up fruits and packed the cooler bag- moving quickly so we can head out as soon as Lani wakes up from her nap;
our daughter Riah’s sweet little voice cut through all the motion-
“Daddy, can you hold me?”
“Of course” he said stopping mid step to scoop her up in his arms.
They started to sway in front of the mirror, dancing to the song playing in the background as she chuckled while staring at their reflection. Her eyes gleaming with joy.
In the midst of it all, I paused and smiled.
Just long enough for the burgers to keep cooking.
And in that pause, something landed.
I thought to myself:
wow, these are the golden days.
The golden days are tricky because they’re easy to miss if you rush through them. Easy to mistake for ordinary while you’re standing inside of them. Easy if you’re just going on autopilot through the motions without pausing. You won’t know you’re living it while you’re in it. You won’t get a loud announcement. There won’t be no markers telling you to pay attention.
It’s not until years later, when the house is quieter and the kids are grown, do these moments come back to you. The sound of their laughter. The weight of a small body in your arms. The fullness of a home that once held everyone together all at once.
Right now, everyone is still here.
Our parents may live back up north, but they’re still alive, breathing, working, facetiming with us. We can call them and talk to them whenever we miss them. Our family is healthy. Our bodies work. We can walk, move, dance. We are vibrant. Joyful. Health lingers softly in the background, easy to ignore if you’re not listening for it.
It just so happened that Lani woke up at the perfect time and we made out it out right before the most beautiful golden sunset.
These are the days we will miss.
These are the days we will ache for later.
And the only way to keep them…
to really keep them close—
is to slow down enough to notice when they arrive.
So my life right now, is about practicing staying a little longer in moments like this.
Just long enough to feel them.
Just long enough to remember.
Warmly,
