I’ve been rushing around since this weekend, obsessively running down a mental checklist, trying to make sure everything is checked off and in place before my guests arrive this week for Christmas. I wandered into the kitchen last night for something, not even sure what anymore, and I paused when I saw Gary sitting at the table. He was bent over one his drawings, studying it, pencil poised to make changes.
There are moments that my heart simply bursts with the simplicity and purity of a moment, and that was one of them. With all of the stress, drama, and hardship of this past year, watching him lose himself in the drawing, that intent, serious look on his face as he contemplated his work, made me feel completely peaceful for a moment. I wanted to hug him. I wanted to hold him tight and let him know I could never stand walking through the house and not having him there with me.
I wanted to say and do a lot of things. Instead I just watched him for a minute. I knew he would eventually look up, or one of us would say something, or a phone would ring, or something else would interrupt the serenity, and then it would be over before I was ready. So I interrupted it instead by saying, “I love you.”
Last month I met a lot of Gary’s family; this month it is his turn to meet more of mine. His driving made my mother launch into fervent and heartfelt prayer for her safety last time. I can’t wait to see what effect he has this time!