The Little Things

When I graduated from college and my best friend and I had to reluctantly live in 2 different cities, I found that my main concern was that I would miss the little things about our friendship. How, every Tuesday and Thursday, we would go for a walk after school. How we would leave little notes for each other to find, or uncannily be able to track each other down on campus even before either of us had a cell phone. And if I needed anything, how I could just leave my front door, walk 20 steps to the right, and knock on her front door. The day-to-day stuff that was small but enriched the friendship with details that were dear and meaningful to me.

I didn't worry about the big stuff. I knew we were important in each other's lives, and that she was like a sister to me. That she would do anything for me. Those were the big themes, the foundation, the structure and sturdiness, of the friendship. No matter where we ended up in the world, I knew those were unshakable. Why worry about something set in stone? But I knew the little things would disappear once we both moved away. My friend tried to tell me that the little things didn't matter in the overall picture; I somewhat agreed with her, and I still do. But I sort of loved the little things.

I find the same struggle when dealing with grief. Thinking of a friend who passed away a few months ago, I find I am missing the same little minutia of the friendship. The random voicemail or text message that made me laugh and brightened my day, the little jokes we had, the ways we touched each other's hearts and cracked each other up by a small gesture or comment. The phrases we repeated to each other because they were meaningful to the friendship; stupid, ridiculous little things that would mean nothing to anyone else, and yet somehow I attached so much meaning to them. Again, I don't seem too bothered by the big things, as those are solid. I know she loved me, I know she isn't really gone, and I know I will see her again. But what I wouldn't do for 1 more teeny tiny voicemail, one more message that was full of the vibrancy and intensity that was her; as if that encompassed the friendship in any way.

On the other hand, the little things have saved me time and time again. On particularly rough days, when it seems all I can do to just simply work my way through 405 traffic and stumble into my house, I remember all of the little blessings in my life. A kind word from my boss that day, a funny email from a friend, a kiss from my puppy Vinnie. Again, these do not encompass the relationships, but they are the small kindnesses and gifts that actually seem so big at the right moment. Last year, during some rougher times, I didn't seem to be able to see the big gifts in my life, but for some reason I was able to see the smaller ones. After a horrible day, I would sit down and think about what redeeming qualities that day had. A coworker complimented me on a report I had written. Someone sent me a card in the mail. A friend invited me over for ice cream. And I would think, "Okay, this day was okay," and that would allow me to have energy and hope for the next day. I am grateful to be able to see the big gifts now, but appreciate that at that point in my life, at least I was able to see the smaller things. Which, actually, were pretty huge for me. 

There is a part of me that wants to get to a point where I see the big picture, and not get bogged down in the details. And then the other part of me sees so much beauty and love and life in the details. All the little things that I would otherwise take for granted, would not notice, would brush off as being unimportant. I do have a tendency to let the details consume me sometimes, but there has to be a balance between the two. Seeing the big and the little and finding the gifts in each.

For now, I'm so grateful for all of the ways that love is expressed, in the monumental and the minuscule. There is so much love, and so many different ways to see it and experience it.