Years ago, when he was probably eight or nine, Jacob started asking me to bring him a glass of water at night. It started innocently, but quickly grew into a habit. Every night, “Dad, can you bring me a glass of water?” Most of the time it was a minor interruption in my evening, but at times it was, in a flash of irritation, an inconvenience during a busy time. At those times I told myself that some day he would quit asking, and then I would miss this little bit of time together. A “Cat in the Cradle” moment if you will. So I would stop whatever I was doing and bring him a class of water.
Tonight, as I precariously balanced five different glasses full of water for the girls, I was struck with the realization that Jacob did, in fact, stop asking. And more distressing was the fact that I could not remember when that happened! Where was I that one night he stopped and I didn’t notice. When did that opportunity slip away and why didn’t it register? In a moment of busyness, I missed it.
Now Jacob is in college and that part of our life together, that simple act of service that drew us close together, if even for the briefest moment each evening, is gone. Tonight, as I juggled all those glasses, walking up the stairs, I prayed that I would not be so involved in my own thoughts, wrapped up in my own issues, caught up in that busyness of life, that I let the opportunity to love my kids pass by me again without notice.
Cameron
