All That Matters

The next few weeks will bring us face-to-face with family members and friends to celebrate the holidays. We haven’t seen some of these folks in a while, and may not see them again for weeks or months.

Or ever.

How should that reality shape the way we spend our time with these people? Taking to heart the frailty and unknowable nature of life can move us to be more intentional with how we shape our time together, build those relationships, and forge our own legacies.

Much of the work I do outside of The Groundhog involves corporate strategy. While it can get complex, strategy can be summed up simply as being intentional in how we plan for and carry out our days. As I’ve thought about this in relation to the holiday gatherings ahead, I arrived at some reflections:

Faces

When you’re with someone you love in the coming weeks, look at their face. Stare into their eyes when they talk. Look at the details, the shape of their facial features. Let your eyes trace the lines that run along their brow. Note how their mouths form a smile or a laugh, what their eyes express when they are sharing a story, how they communicate emotions during conversations as well as the quiet moments.

Voices

Listen to the tone of their voice, its resonance, its timbre, its pitch. Pay attention to how they phrase their words. What makes their voice stand out from others in the room? Find things you can take with you. A friend told me years after he’d lost his sister in a car crash that he could barely remember what her voice sounded like. That crushed me. She was my friend, too. I still remember the words she said and how she said them the night before the accident, as I was one of the last among our high school friends to see her alive. But most characteristics of her voice have, sadly, faded from my memory as well.

Mannerisms

My mother-in-law often stands with a hand on her hip. Her daughters do it, too. And their daughters. When we get together for holidays, extended elbows are everywhere. Getting to the table or coming back for dessert is like navigating traffic cones in a highway construction zone. But those “Worley elbows” as I call them are precious to me. Look for other mannerisms. How do they turn their heads when they laugh? Do they have a way of walking across the room or giving a hug or expressing themselves when they enter the room? These little things help form the bigger picture of what makes them who they are. Make note of them. Remember.

When we gather, the food is important. The gifts are nice. But these are just the background for what really matters. It’s the stories and laughter and overall fun. The hugs and pats and smiles. The small details that form the people you love. The little moments that you don’t realize mean anything until they are all you have left someday.

These are the things that matter. Cherish them. Collect them. Remember them.

I’m reminded of a precious song from my new favorite artist, a folk duo from southern Louisiana known as Ordinary Elephant. This husband and wife team tours the country, was honored as the International Folk Music Artist of the Year in 2017, and has been nominated for the same award again this year. Yet for all their success, Crystal and Pete Damore are among the most grounded, kindest, and sweetest souls I have known. (See them perform at youtube.com/@thelookoutsessions). Their melodies and harmonies are the perfect packaging for their reflective lyrics, especially one titled, “Hope To Be That Happy.”

The song is about Crystal’s grandmother who, despite the changes that aging brought to her, chose happiness over despair:

“I hope to be that happy
I hope to be that happy
When the E on the eye chart gets blurry
And I turn in my keys
When there is more behind
Than in front of me”

The ending of the song is what gets me, and it perfectly captures my sentiment as I reflect on the weeks of celebration and gatherings ahead:

“I hope I will know
All that matters
Is right in front of me”