What My Grandsons Are Teaching Me About Presence

Last weekend was one of those weekends that leaves you tired in the best possible way.

Our grandson recently turned one. The weekend before, we gathered to celebrate his first birthday. Family filled the house. My son volunteered to make burgers for nearly fifty people and spent part of the day wondering why he had agreed to it. There was laughter, cake, and the kind of beautiful chaos that seems to follow young children wherever they go.

Celebrate burned quietly in the background as we marked a year that somehow passed faster than any of us expected.

The following weekend, we made our regular visit to see our newest grandson, who is now a month old.

By now, the excitement of bringing home a newborn has settled into the reality of sleepless nights, endless feedings, and learning how to care for a brand-new little person. So every week, we try to help where we can.

I spent the afternoon preparing meals for the week while Nourish filled the kitchen. Containers lined the counter. Pots simmered on the stove. The kind of work that isn't glamorous but somehow says "I love you" all the same.

Meanwhile, in the nursery, Nurture quietly scented the room while Bo was on Lolo Duty. Holding babies, rocking babies, making silly faces, and giving two tired parents a chance to catch up on sleep.

As I drove home that evening, I couldn't help thinking about how quickly life moves.

A year ago, one grandson was a newborn.

Today he's one.

A month ago, another grandson entered the world.

Soon enough, he'll be chasing his cousin around the yard.

Presence, I've learned, isn't about slowing time.

It's about paying attention while time moves.

It's noticing the birthday candles before they're blown out.

The baby asleep in your husband's arms.

The meal packed away for later.

The conversation around the table.

The ordinary moments that never seem important enough while they're happening.

Until one day you realize they were the moments that mattered most.

Those are the moments I'm trying to hold onto.

Not perfectly.

Just intentionally.

One weekend at a time.