Restless

I should be getting work done.  It is the first bit of quiet I've had to focus in the past three days with travel and meetings. But, now, as I sit in my sister's quiet house with my laptop and coffee, I am restless.

As if I needed more reason to miss Mark and the kids, I am listening to news reports about the horrific shooting at the movie theater in Colorado. In the midst of such unspeakable tragedy, I am struck by such a simple but profound truth:

"what matters at the end of the day is not the trivial things...it is how we choose to treat one another and how we love one another. "

It is ironic, really, since just yesterday I was thinking about how often I miss the bigger meaning about what really matters--or what truly defines the depth of relationships.

I sat there, on the tiny plane to State College, with my eyes closed---hoping to get some peace from the bumpy, noisy ride. My first thoughts were selfish---pity for an inconvenient, whirlwind work trip and flight delays. And, then I thought about Mark.  How he packed up the car for our week at the beach, and was driving the kids 6.5 hours out to meet me...all without one complaint. How he has completely understood my tears, frustration and worry for Nora over the past year--sometimes without having to say a word. How he has supported me in this new role at work without blinking an eye.

That's why he's my best friend.  Sure, he isn't usually inclined to have deep conversations about life, and sometimes he doesn't get my fragile emotions. We see things differently. We do things differently. But, no matter what, he's there for me.

It is much easier to focus on the ways we are different and lose sight of what we share. I think part of my intense love for Owen and Nora comes from that unbreakable bond they represent. Sometimes they are all the reminder I need of the love that binds us.

So, this restless feeling of separation and the sweet anticipation of reunion? These are the things that love is made of.