Presence Over Presents
Focused attention is the best birthday gift of all
Our one and only grandson turned two years old this weekend. He was blessed with many gifts from family at his small party on Saturday (mostly toy tractors, dump trucks, cars, and the like). While the things we bought for him were special, it was the week leading up to his birthday that we will always remember.
Highlights of his birthday week included rides with Mawmaw and Pawpaw, meals at his favorite restaurants, a visit to the fabulous Tennessee Aquarium, seeing prize chickens and live music at the county fair, and a hiking trip at our local state park. By Saturday night we were exhausted but full of love and gratitude for the light this little boy has brought into our lives.
I’ve read that age two is about the youngest point at which humans form lasting memories. Whether he grows up retaining his 2023 birthday week activities or not, we do know one thing for certain: this boy knows he is surrounded by family members who love him. The fact that his parents said he would be playing and randomly start saying “Mawmaw and Pawpaw” to himself tells me all I need to know. We are on his mind and in his little heart.
The years I spent running our business enforced in me a loop-closing mentality. Success consists of projects done right, made up of steps that need to be checked off in order to accomplish what is necessary to achieve your goals. I have to consciously work at setting that mentality aside when it comes to the business of life.
You see, that part of my brain would have said, “Buy some toys: check. Attend a party: check. Sing the happy birthday song: check. Success.” If I had allowed that mindset to rule, I would have missed so many blessings this week.
One would think that a few years of wrestling with a rare disease would have taught me to slow down, to focus on the truly important things in life, to take time to enjoy the small gifts that come my way each day. This month marks nine years since I was diagnosed with myasthenia gravis, and I still struggle with losing myself in the whirlwind of activity.
In Oliver Burkeman’s Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals, the author brings to light the fact that, if we live to be 80, we have just over 4,000 weeks on earth (4,160 to be precise, but that would make for an awkward book title). When quantified like that, the truth is staggering. Our grandson has lived just over 100 of those, while Mawmaw and Pawpaw have logged 70% of this total. By the time he is our age, we will most likely be long gone and all he will have, to quote one of my favorite singer/songwriters Jim Croce, will be “photographs and memories.”
If we ever have a question about how we should invest our resources in that little fella’s life, the paragraph above should answer that question.
I don’t know anyone who would say they’ve lived a life thus far of no regrets. But as I strive to live a truly rare life in the years I have left, my focus needs to be on filling those days with the things that will matter most in the end — both to me and to the people whom I’m blessed to have in my life.
Sometimes people are confused by what I mean when I talk about living a rare life. Is that just about learning to live with a rare disease? That’s certainly part of it, but the bigger picture is crafting an existence wherein you step outside of the normal and routine and create a world that enriches you and those around you.
What does a rare life look like for you? For me, it’s pouring myself into my grandson’s life to help him become the person God would have him to be. It’s investing in my wife and always being mindful that she’s not a supporting cast member in the story of my life but the leading lady in every scene. It’s being a friend and leader to my children, setting a good example of how a husband and father conducts himself. It’s about taking time for extended family and friends. It’s about filling our lives with the arts, being creative, enjoying the outdoors and all that God set into motion when He began His work and declared that “it was good.”
I fail at many of these on pretty much a daily basis. But weeks like the one we just had stand out as reminders that being intentional will reap huge returns. Our grandson may not remember a lot of details from the week as he grows older, but I believe the time we spent with him will add to the foundation we’re building in his life. He may not recall with much clarity the big fish or the prize roosters or the boardwalk through the woods, but he’ll know that Mawmaw and Pawpaw love him and that spending time with him is one of our greatest joys.
What’s on your list of things that build a rare life? What can you do this week to step outside the norm and do something rare? Share your thoughts in the comments.
Do you know someone who wants to discover and pursue what a rare life means to them? Please pass along this newsletter. We’ll continue to encourage one another as we grow this community.
Question? Thoughts? Please share in the comments!