When the kids were little we went places. Disneyland, the Rose Parade, and other events where being short means you have a great view of people's thighs. But John would often hoist the littlest up on his shoulders, granting them the best vantage point of all in which to see the floats float by. They went from being in the claustrophobic position that is default for three year olds in a crowd, to looking out over people's heads. They loved it. Sometimes they would catch the eye of another preschooler atop his or her daddy, and wave. 

 

This week in marriage group there was a theme that quietly emerged. In our check ins, one by one, each couple admitted that the day had included a spat. An icy patch. We too had exchanged some snark, and if it weren't for being in this group it probably would have resulted in each of us going to our corners for the evening. The humor of it all trickled out as each person looked at their partner, or not, relaying sparse details about the tiff. While a few minutes or hours ago they were feeling stuck, it was as if their view opened up. 

 

So they had been feeling ornery. Given the pressures of the day, and our aching bodies, it was not unexpected. We began to smile. To laugh. How about that. We are part of the human race, the one that occasionally gets grumpy. 

 

I marveled that while none of our problems had technically been solved... the demands of our lives were just as demanding.... we could look above the clamor at each other. Lifted up just enough to wave.