Seeing Others More Deeply

The holidays are such a beautiful and chaotic time for many of us. I’ve heard a few people say that they wish their extended families didn’t all gather around Christmas. Instead they would love to spread out the gatherings throughout the year. This would make life less rushed and perhaps allow people to appreciate the small moments more. I could see how that would be nice. And yet, I think for many families who celebrate Christmas, there is the sanctity of the holiday and togetherness that feels precious.

For many of us, the holidays while lovely, are also a reminder of those who are no longer with us and/or perhaps a sense of longing for what could have been.

I’ve been reading How to Know a Person by David Brooks. A beautiful read for anyone who wants to see others more deeply and to be seen more deeply themselves.

I carried some of my reflections from the book with me into the holidays. I love picking out gifts for my mom each year. This Christmas I got my mom a record player. So, of course, I purchased records too. I carefully wrapped each individual, thoughtfully chosen record. There were tough decisions to be made, but thankfully, I had the help of my dear friend, Sean Gaillard. His love of music and the way it connects all of us led me to the perfect albums for her.

I studied her face as she opened each record. Like I said, I’ve been reading that David Brooks book, and it’s helping me to notice others more deeply. For a split second, I could see that she was somewhere else entirely in her memories as she held each album in her hands.

First, there was Carol King’s Tapestry album. A great recommendation from Sean and unbeknownst to me, this was the first album my mom ever owned. She was so surprised that I had chosen this for her and smiled nostalgically as she turned it over in her hands.

She seemed to enjoy Elton John’s Diamonds album and The Beatles Let It Be Special Edition too.

But three other albums seemed to hold special meaning for her.

Whitney Houston’s I Will Always Love You (The Best of Whitney Houston) album. I remembered her telling me that she had attended this concert when she was pregnant with me. Every time she tells this story, she seems struck by the memory of Whitney Houston’s talent and by her fear of the bugs that were flying around her on the stage. She says she can picture exactly where she and my dad were seated at the concert.

Billy Joel’s The Stranger album. I chose this one because she told me about how she went with her friend Barb to see him play in a little bar in Dayton, Ohio before he made it big. She said they sat on the floor and that she and her friend’s wore overalls that night. She had told me about sitting on the floor to watch Billy Joel during one of our annual beach trips, but the overalls detail was new. I love hearing these stories over and over because often new details emerge with each retelling as the memories come flooding back to her.

And finally, The Eagles Greatest Hits Volumes 1&2. Because my dad loved The Eagles. She got a little teary eyed. We made eye contact, smiled and nodded, having a conversation without having a conversation at all. Because we both simply knew why I had chosen this album for her. After looking at the record for a moment, she mentioned that she has missed him more lately. I’m not sure she would have told me that without music unlocking the door to her emotions. The mind forgets but the heart always remembers.

It was a simple Christmas this year. And yet, I will never forget these little moments of watching her float into her memories.

I hope we find more time for those little moments. I hope our heartache and heartbreak and longing don’t get in the way of our ability to savor of the present.

As I say in Legacy of Learning, “Let’s set the pressure of perfection, grand goals, and big gestures aside. Let’s see the beauty in sunrises, smiles, kind words, and the people who simply show up every day.”

A legacy of seeing others more deeply.

And perhaps in doing so, this life that we say is “flying by” will move just a smidge more slowly for us to relish.