When you know you should, but you don’t
You probably didn’t notice me sitting just across from your table. Seeing you made me sad, then thoughtful, and finally you inspired me to write this blog.
I hope you enjoyed your holiday. As we sat in that dining room, the sun streaming through the window, glinting on the gentle waves of the clear blue sea, I found myself musing on what a wonderful place to have breakfast.
I’m pretty sure you didn’t notice.
I thought your daughter looked very cute. She was enjoying pancakes with maple syrup, and made me smile, picking up her pancakes and pushing her fingers through them – getting good and sticky in the process. She showed you this a few times but you didn’t see.
Her giggles were quite infectious. She tried to get you to share her joy – but you didn’t hear.
Your laptop was on the table the whole time, isolating you from your breakfast, the view and even your daughter. Your focus on it was absolute.
You seem like a good dad. Your daughter looked healthy and happy, and clearly adored you, so you certainly got something right.
Maybe you were working on the most important deal of your career. I don’t know if that was the case, but I do know that not every day has that view at breakfast. I know that one day your daughter will eat pancakes without the giggles. I know there will be a time when she has her own distractions and her world no longer revolves around you in the same way. I wonder if you’ll notice then, that these things are no longer there?
Will you realise that you were so busy making a living you forgot to make a life? No matter how important that work it could have waited those few minutes it took to share that happiness, but instead the moment came and went without you.
Someone once told me that when it comes to children the days are long but the years are short. Their childhood passes by in a blur. Or the click of a keyboard.
So please wake up and smell the coffee. Literally. Before you’re left wondering where that smiling, sticky, gorgeous, little girl went.