our two hands.

Thank you for joining my journey, our journey.  Soon, I’ll be moving into a new stage of dialog, where we’ll look at our core values and what shapes us.  Before doing that, however, I need to post the following reflection, as it speaks so intimately to the concept of connection.  Those who know me, have heard this story… but I hope you can enjoy it again.


With headphones cascading some piano music to drown out the background noise, I type away… capturing my thoughts for the weeks ahead.  I sip my coffee and try to maintain my focus.  But my something catches my eye…

At the table in front of me sits a small older woman… by the grey hair and weathered face, I’m guessing she’s in her late sixties.  Next to her is a two year old sweetie… blonde ponytail, blue jeans to match her eyes, white walking shoes, and a bright, flowered t-shirt peeks out from beneath a pink hoodie declaring “Grandma’s girl”.  They’re in their own world.  Grandma is leaning over to hear the quiet, squeaky voice, and Sis is on her knees in a chair so her face can reach within inches of Grandma’s.  They giggle, but clearly a story is unfolding…  and so it goes, as they snack for nearly an hour… rarely losing eye contact.

Then, as Grandma gathers her things and heads to the door, Sis stands firm next to the table.  Grandma calls her.  Sis stands firm.  Then Grandma smiles… and slowly walks to the table.  Without a word, she sets everything down… gently scoops her two hands together atop the empty table… and hands what I believe is an imaginary friend to Sis.  Sis carefully receives her friend with open palms, and gently places it in her pocket… gives Grandma a slight grin and nod of approval… and they walk out together.

 Connection.  Somebodieness.  It’s magical. 

 

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