There's nothing quite like coming home from a long day at work and being greeted by a three year old. Arms go up, cheers erupt, hugs are catapulted and weariness melts away.
A welcome home from a dog is almost as good, but isn't quite the same. Even a good cat can make you feel welcome, but it always feels like they have an agenda.
Nancy and I have started cheering for people when we see them. I'm not sure how it started and we've never really talked about it. It just sort of happened. We don't do it all the time, but just at random moments throughout the day.
Marcus and Kelsie come home from work, we cheer. Andrew stops by for a visit, "Yippee!" Someone shows up for work, church, the car rental company, we celebrate.
I have to tell you, it freaks people out.
"What was that about? Am I late? Did I miss something?"
"No. We're just happy to see you."
"Um... oh. Thanks?"
As we get older, we begin to expect Dad to come home every night. We believe Mom will always be there. The surprise and wonder of their return wears off and drifts into the mundane.
I wounder what the world would be like if we always greeted the people we love like a three year old. Not superficially, but with genuine excitement for the gift of reconnection. Because we never really know.
If you knew it was going to be the last time you saw someone, how would you greet them? How would you treat them?
A welcome home from a dog is almost as good, but isn't quite the same. Even a good cat can make you feel welcome, but it always feels like they have an agenda.
Nancy and I have started cheering for people when we see them. I'm not sure how it started and we've never really talked about it. It just sort of happened. We don't do it all the time, but just at random moments throughout the day.
Marcus and Kelsie come home from work, we cheer. Andrew stops by for a visit, "Yippee!" Someone shows up for work, church, the car rental company, we celebrate.
I have to tell you, it freaks people out.
"What was that about? Am I late? Did I miss something?"
"No. We're just happy to see you."
"Um... oh. Thanks?"
As we get older, we begin to expect Dad to come home every night. We believe Mom will always be there. The surprise and wonder of their return wears off and drifts into the mundane.
I wounder what the world would be like if we always greeted the people we love like a three year old. Not superficially, but with genuine excitement for the gift of reconnection. Because we never really know.
If you knew it was going to be the last time you saw someone, how would you greet them? How would you treat them?
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