Today was hard.
I was here. Here in Texas.
But I so desperately wanted to be there. There in South Dakota.
My little sister graduated. Walked the stage. Cap and gown. The whole 9 yards.
And I was here. Did some cleaning, went out for lunch with my husband, worked my regular Friday schedule. Just a regular “here” day. Crying inside (and occasionally on the outside) because today was such a special day in my sisters life, because my whole family traveled to be there, and I couldn’t. I was here.
Of course I sent a card. Left a voicemail. Cheered her on from a distance. I did what I could to show here that my being “here” wasn’t about a lack of care and support. It was about where I am in life. Where my home is. My being where I belong and her being where she belongs, and sometimes the distance can’t always be crossed in a physical sense.
Sometimes people are “there” and we are “here” in a more metaphorical sense. It may be in life station (rich/poor, married/single, childless/parents) or in matter of belief (egalitarian/complimentarian, Calvinist/Arminian, homosexual/homophobic). But we realize, sometimes sickeningly, that we are indeed “here” while they are “there”.
And everyone is missing out.
Perhaps in those instances, it would do us all good to remember that no matter how far away the “other” seems, we can still show love and care without going “there”. We don’t have to change our views or beliefs. We don’t have to abandon our convictions. We can remain grounded in the “here” that is our home while still loving them in the “there” that is there home.
There may still be tears. But there is also love.