made our way back to Austin this afternoon & spent our time soaking up moments with papa Norman, talking about history & books, inside and then around the pool for a change of scenery & fresh evening air. he’s slow moving these days, but he’s so present.
Matthias & I went out after a couple hours to print programs for the service happening tomorrow & he told us he was going stay busy while we were gone, probably with a book. but when we returned, the table was set with paper plates, paper napkins, and he was waiting for us to share a meal with him. a seemingly small act, but one done with so much love. it was accomplished slowly, because slowly is the only way he can do anything. each action took time, thoughtfulness, thinking ahead about enjoying a meal with us. what an incredible treasure. to be thought of. to be wanted around a table.
meals are sacred in our family. we share them as often as we can back home, piling as many of us as possible around tables inevitably too small. we just want to be near each other. we want to delight in each other’s presence. breaking bread with family breathes life into my soul. all of our souls. even in the chaos... especially in the chaos? the noise of people sharing a meal is always joyful. one of the saddest fates I can imagine is not having someone— especially the someone I love the most dearly in this world— to sit across the table from regularly for that soul-filling.
we have not been the great-grandchildren we should have been. we have not visited enough or celebrated around the table enough with them in these last years. but with nana gone now, my heart is set against my own selfishness keeping us from sitting around a table often with papa Norman. he deserves to share meals regularly with all the people still earthside who love him so dearly. *and this is where I recommend for the second time in less than two weeks that you read bread & wine by shauna niequist 🖤*