My daughter, Elena, is five. She is not a huge
fan of going to sleep. Tonight, she tucks my hand close to her chest, wrapping
her arms around it so I can’t move.
“Stay,” she says softly, “Stay forever.”
And while I am excited to return to my newest project in the art room,
I am also struck by the importance of my presence in her life at this very moment.
Stay.
Stop.
Be with me.
As I watch Elena fall back asleep, it crosses my mind to
think about how abruptly this feeling of Elena’s will change in a few short
years. Believe me, I think about this daily, with each hug and snuggle and skip
down the street holding hands. I know she will not stay this pint-sized girl
forever.
But instead, I think about how hard it is, as an adult, to ask another person to stay.
Not forever. Just for a bit longer.
It’s so much easier to ask for things: “Please pass the salt.” “Can
you pick me up some more wasabi peas?” “Would you mind refilling my sweet tea?”
All of these things… things that we usually can get for
ourselves… pale in comparison to the
power of another’s undivided presence with us.
I think about how often I’ve wanted someone to stay but have been
afraid to ask. Afraid that a “no” on top of being alone would be so much worse
than just being alone in the first place.
I also wonder how many times I might have said “no” to someone…
in the moment, not realizing how much courage it took to ask.
I think about this a lot, especially around my birthday. I don’t want
stuff. I just want time with people I love. Super-connectedy-deep-conversationy
kind of time. The more chill and the less planned, the better. Just time
together, with no expectations other than presence.
Somehow it’s so much easier to ask for stuff and give stuff. It
feels more…. gifty. Like… here it is, all with a nice bow!
One of my best friends and I like to hang out on the swings at night. These
evenings, when time is carefree and easy to squander, are the spirit of
STAY:
Be in this moment with me.
Don’t rush this
time thinking about tomorrow.
Linger a
bit, though the air is chilly.
Just stay.
As adults, we joke about children asking for all kinds of things: a funky skirt from the thrift store, just one gummy worm, two small tasty donuts…. These requests come as easily as the ones for people… for presence.
I wonder when and how in our lives we come to learn that it is better
to ask for things instead of people. Do we believe we are more likely
to get what we want if we ask for something we can buy? Are we trying to
make it easier on others, knowing we are all so busy? When did it become easier/better/more
socially acceptable to ask for things that don’t really matter?
As much as I want my daughter to be strong and independent and
brave, how do I make sure she never stops asking me to stay?
I can feel how much my presence means to her in this moment, but I
sometimes forget how much it means to me to be wanted and needed… to know that
my presence alone can bring comfort to another person.
I close my eyes, my hand still tucked under Elena’s arms, and wonder…
when was the last time I asked another person, bravely…. Stay?