I still mother them….

I’ve been thinking tonight about the people who come into our lives. The ones we didn’t know we needed until we realize how much we look forward to hearing from them. The ones who can make us laugh when our heads are somewhere else, who check in and actually wait for the answer, who somehow make a hard day a little easier just by being themselves.

I have a lot of those people in my life, and I hope they know what they mean to me. Some have known me forever. Some have come into my life through Face the Facts, through work, through grief, or through something that started with a simple “Can you help?” Somewhere along the way, we became part of each other’s lives. Now I can’t imagine not knowing them.

Since losing Vincent and Gabriella, I’ve had to learn how to let people show up for me. I’m much more comfortable being the person figuring something out, finding a resource, making a connection, or asking who has a couch we can pick up. Being on the other side of that is harder. Sometimes I don’t even know what I need, let alone how to ask for it. But there are people who keep showing up anyway, and I’m grateful for that.

I need the people who let me talk about my kids. I need the people who can handle the tears without getting uncomfortable and the ones who can make me laugh so hard I forget, for a minute, how heavy everything feels. I need the nonsense, too. The ridiculous conversations, the pictures somebody thought I’d enjoy, the quick message that turns into a whole conversation. Those things give me something to look forward to.

And I still need to feel needed. That’s something I’m learning about myself, too. Helping someone, being included in their journey, knowing they thought to call me—it means a lot. I love getting to watch people grow and find their way. I love when someone shares good news with me because they know I’m going to be excited for them. There is still so much in other people’s lives that I want to be here for.

Tonight, I’m thinking about all the people who have made room for me exactly as I am. You let me be sad, funny, busy, quiet, or a complete mess, sometimes all in the same conversation. You don’t always know how much that helps. So if you’re one of my people, please know this: I’m glad you came into my life, and I’m grateful you keep choosing to be part of it.