Seeing the magic.
“Ohhh buddy, now you did it. I told you not to touch the tree, now your mom is going to get her camera to take a photo of you with the Christmas bulb”
These words escaped my husband's mouth as soon as my feet hit the floor when I stood up from the couch. He was right, exactly right. I saw my son touch the Christmas tree and I immediately remembered that we hadn’t taken the annual photo with us mirrored in the bulb yet this year. I was on my way to get my camera the minute I saw my son reach for the ornament. My husband knew my thoughts before I could even say a word. It was like he was in my brain.
* * * *
I close the door and step outside in the cold. My kitchen is full of family, over for Thanksgiving. They are all maneuvering around the kitchen filling their plates with the food I prepared before taking their seats to enjoy the meal. I love hosting. There is something about having people in my home and serving them food that brings me so much joy but 10 moving people in one small space is an anxiety trigger for me. I know if I stay while they are moving it will just become harder to breathe. I step outside to get some air so I can return once a few people have filled their plates and found their seats.
Before I can shut the door behind me or take two deep breaths, he is standing there with a full drink in his hand. I swore he was just cutting the turkey, how did he get out here so fast?
“I heard the door and thought it might be you. I figured this might happen and tried to be prepared.” my husband says as he hands me my drink and offers a hug. He knew I’d need to walk out before I even considered it an option. He assumed the walls would start to feel like they were closing in and didn’t want me to stand out in the cold alone while I pulled myself together.
* * * *
I took the annual Christmas bulb photo. Actually, I took a couple of them and I love them. What I will remember about this year though has nothing to do with the people in them but rather the way I felt known. I will remember how my husband knows me so well that he spoke my thoughts out loud to my kids before I did. I will be reminded that he pays attention even when, or maybe even especially when, I think he isn’t.
The meal and company were both wonderful on Thanksgiving. I walked back in 2 minutes after stepping outside, filled my plate and sat down with my guests. No one even noticed I stepped outside, well almost no one. I will remember a lot of things about Thanksgiving this year, especially after the pretty much non-existent celebration last year. Mostly I will remember the way I felt seen. I will remember how my husband sees what triggers my anxiety and notices when I leave the room when no one else does.
In the mundane, day to day, of life, marriage, and motherhood it is hard to see the magic. It is easy to remember when no one noticed you did the dishes again, or folded and put away their laundry. It is easy to feel invisible when no one thanks you for dinner, or for packing their lunches. Life just becomes routine, and I think that is ok. I like the predictability and the familiarity of knowing how our family works and thrives. Sometimes though, the small reminders of my husband voicing my thoughts or meeting me outside are just what I need to see the magic again. The magic is all around. It is there in the way we know our weekends are now based off of football schedules thanks to our son's new found love of the sport. I see it now in the way our daughter uses half-times to perform her own ballet solo in the living room, or joins me in the kitchen and reads to me “1 c-u-p. It says 1 cup mama!” The mundane is how we learn to know each other so well that we help each other feel known and seen. There is magic in that for sure.
