In Your Heart
Brad Pitt once said “Life is about getting from one perfect moment to another.” Think about the last perfect moment you had – that you noticed. They’re different for each of us, and indeed each of us has a variety of different kinds of perfect moments. As I type this, I am experiencing one – sitting on a lounge chair under an umbrella by the pool atop the cliffs of Pismo Beach. I look out over the Pacific Ocean gleaming in the sun. A cool breeze sways the bright green tops of the nearby palm trees, passes over me with its fresh scent. The sun warms my bare feet.
A dear friend sits to my right, enjoying the same thing. Our massages begin in 15 minutes. Later we’ll go out to dinner and resume the non-stop talking we began yesterday when our “girlfriend getaway” commenced. Maybe we’ll go shopping. Who cares? It’ll be perfect.
Before I started out on the 3.5-hour drive to this resort, I turned to my children and hugged them, and realized I would miss them. I don’t think about that when my life is hectic and filled to the brim, no time for thought of things other than selling the house, buying a new house, finding the right kindergarten, is there milk for tomorrow morning?, I have to do some laundry, oh no it’s already 11PM and I haven’t written the check for preschool ad nauseum. And honestly, during the first few hectic years of motherhood, missing them was not something I felt often. They take up so much space in me that when I got a break from them I was able to breathe freely, regroup, and dive back in. Now, though, I am away from them a lot – with work, events, errands, etc. And my weekend away is an indulgent blessing that will refresh my soul, but yes, this time I will miss them.
Kyle picked up on that feeling and told me he’d draw me a picture to take with me on my trip. A few minutes later he came to me with this:
He pointed out the elements: “This is your heart, Mommy. And this is me inside it, so you will remember that I am always in your heart.”
No, seriously. He said that. My 4.5 year old child.
“Tape it to your shirt,” he said.
“Better yet, I’ll make it into a T-shirt!”
And so, I did.