Love Her Example

Tonight while at my cousin's wedding reception I was visiting with my mom's aunt. She's a woman I love dearly, probably because I have always felt so loved by her. Many people I know aren't so blessed to feel a closeness to their great aunt (that is her relationship to me, isn't it? I'm not good at genealogical terms), but I've always felt like I'm special to her, and that makes me love her. Even though I didn't see much of her in the ten years that I lived away, we have picked back up without missing a beat and I love the opportunities I have to be with her.

She was telling me that in their retirement years they have spent a great deal of their time traveling out of state to attend family member's baby blessings, baptisms, and other activities. They have attended the baby blessings for 39 out of 41 great grandchildren who live both in and out of state. She and her husband spend their weekends going to soccer games and birthday parties. And I thought retirement was supposed to be restful. As much as I would love to kick back and rest at some point in my life, I think I'd rather follow the example of my mom's aunt and her husband, who stay committed to their priorities.

As we chatted I thought about the sacrifices she and her husband must have made in order to be so involved with their family. As this sweet couple has "grown up" their energy can't be the same that it used to be, they move slower in general, and what about the health issues that have plagued them? Despite any of these issues (and likely more that there's no way I would know about), family has remained a priority. To this couple the word family is more a verb than it is a noun. And as we chatted the thought that came to my mind that I said out loud was, "Even though it takes effort and sacrifice to make family a priority, when you look back you never regret the things you might have missed out on in order to attend to the important things."

Then I thought about the payoff of such sacrifice. The strengthened relationships, the peace of mind from doing good works, the joy. And if those things (and more) are really the payoff, then many of the things I see as sacrifices are really so small that I don't know if they can be called a sacrifice at all. I think may cherished experiences come about because of choices...the choice to do something meaningful at the so-called sacrifice of less-desirable alternatives. Sometimes it's not so cut and dried, but for me, right now, in this season of my life, I feel like it is.

Oh, how I need to readjust some things...walk away from the computer, put down the iPhone, listen before I pop off and yell, play instead of giving in to laziness, dedicate myself to the relationships I treasure in my life.

But at the same time, there are some things I don't have regrets about...

Like listening to an imaginative little bookworm tell me about her life as it would be if she were living inside a story. Even though my eyes might glaze over and my thoughts might wander during the conversation, I never regret giving her my time and as much attention as I can muster. I sure don't regret that I didn't get to organizing the closet like I've been meaning to do for months--that project will still be there next month.

And like taking the time to help a teary-eyed little beauty, who tugs at my heart strings, find her special pair of pajamas before night settled in. I don't regret the understanding heart and encouraging words I found somewhere inside my frustrated frame that wanted to erupt because it was already an hour past bedtime.

And like participating in the mind-numbing "bounce-the-ball-back-and-forth" activity with an energetic two-year-old sweetie who wants her mommy's time more than anything else in this whole world, with the exception of chips. I don't regret that I couldn't catch up on friend's blogs while she chilled out in front of "Dora the Explorer" at that particular moment.

Sometimes it's hard to turn off the computer, where I can read interesting things and escape from a few responsibilities, in order to engage in a conversation that doesn't interest me much. Sometimes, giving my time to my family is a strenuous exercise in self-discipline because often times, I'd genuinely rather do things other than what they want or need me to do.

BUT...when I'm in my eighties, I'd love to look back on my life and know that both me and my family find satisfaction and meaning in the fact that I devoted myself to family. I want each of them to feel and know that they were a priority to me. At that point in my future, I think the memories of the moments I shared with people I love will bring a smile to my face and peace to my heart, more so than the memories of an organized closet or an out-of-control rant. I hope I can look back on this time in my life with memories of cherished experiences that were possible because of my "sacrifices" and daily choices.

How grateful I am for Aunt Cumorah and Uncle Robert and their exemplary lives.