Chloe and I were sitting outside a museum. It was Bastille Day and the air had that celebratory buzz but Chloe wasn’t smiling. She was quiet for a while, then suddenly got tense.
“You know, I used to visit this museum every Bastille Day with my mom,” she said, “We would walk through the exhibits, then grab ice cream from that corner stand. It was our thing.”
She looked down at her hands and sighed. “She’s getting older. She needs me more. I’m just not there like I used to be. Work, errands, calls, emails—it gets in the way. I keep thinking,” she turned toward me, eyes soft and unsure. “What should I do, Bob?”
I smiled. We’ve all been there—watching the clock, counting the responsibilities, forgetting the people who once dropped everything for us.
“Chloe,” I said, “just show up. What is the best thing we can offer to our parents? Our presence, right? But somehow, with so much going on in life, we forget to make time for them. It doesn’t have to be a big plan or a perfect moment. Sometimes, sitting next to your mom, even in silence, is the loudest ‘I love you’ she’ll ever hear.”
She nodded, eyes glistening just a bit. “She always said Monet made her feel peaceful,” she said, motioning to the banner outside the museum. “She used to say the brushstrokes looked like they were breathing.”
“Well,” I said, “maybe it’s time to breathe with her again. Even if it’s just over coffee or a slow walk. What matters is that she sees you trying. That you’re still her person.”
Chloe let out a breath and smiled—a small, grateful smile.
“Thank you,” she said. “Not just for the advice. For sitting with me. For hearing me.”
“Anytime,” I said. “Sometimes we just need someone to remind us that showing up is enough.”
To you, dear reader—if there’s someone in your life growing older while you’re busy growing forward, take a moment. Give them a call. Drop by. Share a story, or just your time. Love isn’t always about grand gestures. Often, it’s just about showing up before the museum closes, before the season changes, before the moment slips away.
Sometimes, the greatest gift we can give is being there.
