Paying Attention

I recently traveled over 2,000 miles to visit my 79-year-old mother, who had been quite sick last fall. There was a time—after a long hospital stay that included more than a week in the ICU—when we truly didn’t know if she would make it.

I’ve always been close to my mom, but something has shifted. Lately, I find myself paying deeper attention—to her life, her joy, our relationship, her story.

When I travel back to my hometown, I usually make time for friends and extended family. But this visit felt different. I wanted every possible moment with her—from the quiet light of morning to the stillness of night. I made a conscious choice to share meals, to cook for her, to do the simple things she wanted to do. Nothing extraordinary… and yet, everything felt meaningful.

Paying attention has taken on a new depth.

As my mother continues to age and grow more fragile, I’m increasingly aware of both the miracle of life and the profound blessing of still having each other. I find myself fully present in every conversation, every shared silence, even in the simple act of holding her hand and feeling her skin in mine.

Paying attention to the gift of her life has become one of my most sacred longings.

And maybe that’s the invitation for all of us—to slow down, to notice, to cherish the people we love while we still can… because in the end, a life well-lived is made up of moments we chose not to miss.