“Most of us can read the writing on the wall; we just assume it’s addressed to someone else.”
— Ivern Ball
“Dad, aren’t you going to come say good-bye?” my son asked tonight from his bed.
“Be there in a sec.” I said as I continued to get things in order for my trip.
Tomorrow morning during the ides of dark, I’ll be getting in a taxi destined for the airport, to board a plane for Biloxi, Mississippi for a short business conference. It’s only a three day conference, no big deal.
Well, to me it isn’t.
A little while later I heard again, “Dad, aren’t you going to come say good-bye?”
“You’re going to sleep aren’t you?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he responded. “I’m tired.”
I got up and said good night with a “teen hug” but as I came back to my room, a thought struck.
He wasn’t really going to sleep for the sake of sleep, I think he just wanted to tell me that he will miss me. Since he’s not a great communicator or a big talker, he doesn’t really know quite how to say that. He may not even know what his feelings are. Most of us don’t. He was just trying to tell me something.
Yet, in his own way, without saying it, he told me. I know that because he left a message.
The message was in what he didn’t say. It was in the way he said what he didn’t say. It was in the writing he put up on my wall.
I think there’s a lot of writing on our wall. Maybe it’s that piece of trash sitting on the curb by your car when you come out of the store. Maybe it’s that elderly woman slowly making her way into the store with aching legs, needing, but not wanting to ask for help. Maybe it’s that person that called asking nicely for you to volunteer, but not wanting to push too hard.
There is a lot of writing on our wall, showing us a more generous way to go through life.
It’s up to us to read it, then act.
Changed the reader board with my daughter at her school … Read one chapter of story to both my daughters, then another chapter because they asked.
Maybe they were also writing on my wall.