COME. MORE. BYE.

Just in time…

Yiayia retired from her career of changing young students’ lives to change the life of her own granddaughter.  And Tango took an important role in an adjacent town to also reap the benefits of his granddaughter’s presence.

Just in time…

Because Zoe is an active, rugged 2-year old toddler who braves the cold and snow (or the heat and humidity) to enjoy the outside… despite New Hampshire’s sometimes-unpredictable weather.  She is interested in everything, and participates gleefully (and seemingly-insatiably) in all the adventures set out for her by her parents and grandparents.

Just in time…

Yiayia and Tango can fully participate with Zoe’s parents in snow days, beach days, and overnights… which involve snowsuits, snowballs, bathing suits, pails and shovels, toys, wagons, special utensils, and lots and lots of time (and no doubt patience).

So we listen in to a typical encounter with Zoe.  She is walking away and wants Yiayia to follow. 

“Come.”

She is eating the delicious mixture of healthy veggies Yiayia has prepared for her and reaches the bottom of her bowl.

“More.”

She is exhausted, lying down and ready to fall into sweet slumber.

Or, she has played with Yiayia or Tango or Mommy or Daddy or Uncle Jon or Penny and is ready for the playing to be over.

“Bye.”

Zoe came on the scene 20 months ago.  My cousin Diane (“Yiayia”) and her husband Tim (“Tango”) had become caretakers of Diane’s mother, who was in failing health, just as Zoe was born.  Diane’s mother lived to see only the first 6 weeks of Zoe’s life.  And Diane had lost her father 7 years prior and her brother 2 years prior to Zoe’s birth. So Zoe’s entrance into their lives, which they had hoped would coincide with the time when they were prepared to turn their attentions to retirement and the joy of a growing family, was a blessing they could not have foretold. 

Zoe came… Just in time.

Life and death are two sides of the same cosmic coin.  They come unannounced, and we can but hope to be prepared.  But when a soul like Zoe makes an entrance just as three older souls in her genetic lineage depart, there is a heightened awareness… a renewed hope… an assurance that the future is at hand and needs our full attention.

And so we listen more closely, touch the story more reverently, and watch more expectantly.  If we’re smart enough to pay attention, we’re learning. 

I hear stories of Zoe’s words “Come, More, and Bye” and I kid around with my cousin that maybe those are the only words we really need anyway.  Maybe those words signal to us that it is in the simplicity of life… a child beckoning her grandparents, or petting her dog, or spooning more sand into the bucket or more food into her mouth, or shooing us away or nodding off to sleep, that all of living is encapsulated.  We mustn’t miss those moments.  They signify who we are, and point to, when all is said and done, who we might wish to become.

Take a look around you today. 

To whom would you say “Come?”

To what circumstance or event would you say “More?”

To what activities or habits would you say “Bye?”

Isn’t it time to take on the courage of a little girl, who came just in time to a loving family, to learn how to say those words for ourselves?