Some . Things . Matter

It had been a full day. I was feeling a little tired and wouldn’t have minded a bit of time to myself before heading out for a family dinner.

‘Are we going to our seat?’ My husband asked.

I looked at him. What I think I felt like saying was, ‘No, I’m staying here’.

But I knew that deep down of course I wanted to go, it was one of our ‘things’, something we said we’d do whenever we had the chance to stay at our happy place near the sea.

We had said that each afternoon, or evening, we would sit on our seat on the hill. With a cup of tea, a glass of wine, nothing or something; we would sit together. Together in silence or conversation, it didn’t matter. The most important part was being grateful for where we were and for what our lives were filled with at that point in time. It was our gratitude check as a couple.

This ‘thing’ we do has now become a ritual. Something sacred, important. Something we do and that which we endeavour to make happen, to the best of our ability. Every. Time.

The other evening we received a message from our sons. They had been out bush-walking for the afternoon. 

‘Are you at the seat?’

‘No. At home.’ I messaged back.

‘It’s getting dark though,’ they texted, ‘when are you going?’

I had to laugh. Here we were being told by our boys that we were late. I laughed as I explained that we had been to our seat while they had been out.

But since they had gone to our seat in the hope of meeting us, my husband and I went for the second time that day.

It was heart-warming knowing that our ritual had become something they valued too. Who knows what rituals they will establish in their own lives?