Consider this an intermission. A moment where I have no wisdom to share, no knowledge or research I’m compelled to report, and no breaking news I feel I have to detail. This is a day where those words don’t come easily for me and thus I’ll give you a brief intermission. The reason? I’ve heard terrible news today about children going missing, children who have been hurt and children who have been killed. It’s left me a bit breathless. I’ve found myself unable to finish 5 posts that I’ve started. This past weekend I flew out to Minnesota for a 24 hour visit to support a dear friend who just lost her father. It’s Wednesday now and I’m still a bit consumed by it. And more, I’ve been sick for the last 7 days, feeling fairly miserable. As I wring myself out and attempt to stand back up after a long week for me personally, I acknowledge this: often we lack control of all that we’d like. Everything from our own health, our family’s health, the safety and vulnerability of our friends and loved ones, and even our own future.
Yet the saving grace can be that our lives can feel entirely whole in a single moment. A single moment of simplicity amidst a slanted sun. The bare bones moments away from technology and away from a clock– those moment surrounded by those we love. Those moments that define and then refine who and what we cherish most.
As the sun set last night, the boys raced between the heathers. They took small risks. They went “off road.” I stood underneath a big sky, between the hill and the lake, my husband and my two little boys. It was, and continues to be, a purely miraculous memory. It was just the same in the moment. The privilege to raise little boys. The joy I feel in their presence and the sincere fortune it is to watch them grow.
That is an intermission. A look into last night’s golden light. A moment for you to stare at that sky, too.
With that, I will heal myself, return to my patients tomorrow, and come back here with much more to say. I’ve got partial posts written about my four year-old’s take of the shuttle launch, his first big picture movie, the reality of poo particles in public pools, and my take on 100 years in pediatrics. And with any luck, I suspect one of those posts will show up here soon.
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Melissa Arca, M.D. says
Those moments really do mean the world. What an absolutely gorgeous photo!
Stories of these missing and abused children? Unfathomable and yet it happens. So hard to wrap my brain around these stories. How can we better protect our children?
Tomorrow is a new day. Fresh. Thank you for a lovely intermission. I hope you are feeling much better very soon.
Teresa says
My day at home started off very crumby. Then, I came and walked into a hailstorm of work. Then I saw your post…… You reminded about the things that are out of our control, and the gorgeous photo gave my great pause. AAAAhhhhhhh! (and exhale!) Thanks…. I needed that! My reminder to you and others: sometimes our getting sick when our lives our extremely busy are our Creator’s way of causing us to rest so we can have times of reflections such as the moment you had the pleasure of having….
Laurie Mobley says
I also have two small boys and your posts like these are my absolute favorite – your honesty and the way you capture how wonderful and simulateously fleeting it all is. You help remind us of the joy of the everyday – going off-road, gardening, story time…For me, the sound of my sons laughter makes eveything feel right in the world.
Sarah Callender says
Beautiful! I hope you are feeling much better . . .
🙂
Kathy Mackey says
I can see that you are “cherishing the moment the children”. I can’t imagine anything better for a pediatrician to do.
Kathy says
What a gorgeous photo and post. I think the same thing when I hear/read those stories. Thanks for another thought-provoking session, WSS.
Becky Andrews says
Thank you for this post. It is so fleeting and beautiful and precious. Ever since I had my son almost two years ago, I have taken the stories in the media of children killed or hurt very hard. It makes the time I have with my child feel all that much more important. I cannot imagine the pain of the families of these children. Your posts help me keep it all in perspective.
Katie says
Beautiful.
Thinking of you.
Chris says
So awesome (in the actual, not high-school usage of the term) and beautiful. Your boys have gotten so big, so fast!
wisdom teeth removal says
Wow that photo is amazing. Stay positive. Hope you are feeling better.