We all watched it. And cried in some form or fashion. Perhaps it was a constant trickle throughout Parenthood's final episode. Maybe an ugly cry at the moment. You know the one. That moment might have been different for all of us.
I couldn't help but project my own life into the hit NBC show as the series finale flashed on the screen. It's a little fuzzy, but I see our adult children frequently hanging out at their childhood home, around the kitchen, helping Dad outside with some project or another, or stopping by for dinner chosen from our growing collection of perfected Tex-Mex plates. We'll watch the grandkids while our own children sneak away for a much-needed night out. We will be their first stop with news, good and bad and in between.
Maybe this house is the one, maybe another. But the walls don't matter. Our boys know they can be themselves and be loved for that within them. They will return with little ones of their own who know our love deeply. They will come by so often that they all have places at the table and argue over claimed spots on the couch.
And we watch them grow. And grow. And grow. We might have a great-grandchild or two. They will all be there when we renew our vows at the church where we married in Hometown, LA. And they will hold us and carry us when we make the hard choices much like we carried them. They will remember us fondly when it's our time, each of their cheeks wet with tears, yes, and each with hearts swollen with memories. Memories of us as a couple, us as a family, each of us as individuals.
There will be that time that dinner was popcorn and ice cream. Or maybe that no one left the table until a few bites of veggies made their way into little bellies.
And they will remember weekend haircuts with Daddy and after school Icee stops with Momma. They will feel the hugs we doled out after winning a close game against team rivals or nailing a band concert or trying their best on an algebra test but coming up a little short.
We will have had the words they needed to get through each day and through each season. They might recall some of them. Most importantly, "I love you. I'm proud of you." They were said so often that the words themselves are a part of their being, woven into their bones.
And yet, there's no guarantee that we are the first to go. There's no Braverman guarantee. All we are guaranteed is the moment in which we are currently find ourselves, and in 2015, I'm gifting myself with an awareness of "the moment." These are the words guiding my days. I'm trying to be present in each one and alert to what it's offering. Some offer lessons, others joy. Still others give peace, rest, validation, courage, invitation.
The big moments show themselves proudly and aren't to be discounted. We know those. But my goal is to live the small moments between these grander times with a bit more intention, more gratitude, more pauses to see the beauty of it all.
I want to accept these moments into my heart, but also capture them. I want to experience them again through the lenses of photography or journaling. I selfishly want to hang onto them and let them linger for a bit before moving on to the next.
As 2015 inches its way closer to the halfway mark, moments are making their marks, and while I can't grab them all, I plan to soak in all that I can.