My eldest and I were joking today about wreath-making. It was the annual Nature’s Wreath fund-raiser at the Pittsburgh Zoo. We go every year and — every year — we agonize over our wreath decorating. I was (secretly) absolutely delighted … Okay. Okay. Flattered beyond the power of speech is more accurate … when our long-time wreath mentor told me that (after 25 years of making wreaths), I’m starting to show real growth. I can’t even tell you how much that made me laugh.
Anyway, I was encouraging my son not to over-think his wreath design, told him there’s no wrong way to design it. And that’s when he looked up from his work, his green eyes bright with laughter, and said, “Maybe not, Mom, but there are a thousand ways to ruin a wreath.”
It’s the single best thing, you know. The time you spend with people. Let me amend that — the time that you are physically, mentally, and emotionally present with people. For years, I was required to vacation with my phone at the ready, with my laptop in my tent. I had to check email. I was chided for not responding quickly enough. I attended meetings while my children road rides at Universal Studios. I sat at a table in Dave & Busters on a call with a project manager while my son ate nachos and waited for me to play with him. I was not present.
Today, there were no conference calls separating me from family and friends. We laughed and teased and shared suggestions. We pranked each other by sneaking unexpected items onto wreaths and sang along to silly holiday tunes. We praised other participants’ wreaths and made terrible hot cocoa with boiling water and packets of Swiss Miss. We started the day with cheap diner food at a sticky table and stayed an extra hour talking. It was one of those spectacular small moments in our lives that are so easily missed, that cannot be recaptured.
When one of my kids asked what I want for Christmas, I said, “More of this. More time together. The gift of your presence.” I think, perhaps, nothing else matters.
Much love.
