notquiteold

Nancy Roman

Notice The Moments

I am one of those fortunate people who is not moving through life feeling unloved.

But I have had times when I felt unnoticed. I think it can be very difficult to be invisible, and yet so many of us are. Older people, average people, single people – we who don’t make waves.

And yet it is because of our very nature of being the shy ones, the acquiescent ones – that as much as we need acknowledgment, we cannot be the person who shouts “Notice ME!”

Perhaps one way to cope with our invisibility is to reverse our perspective.

To not fret about being unnoticed. But to be the one who notices.

We sometimes need to pay attention to the small moments when we are recognized. And to realize that in those moments, we are accepted. We are loved.

There have been some small – and some significant – moments in my life where I could have missed the sign. Missed noticing that I was being noticed. Being loved.

Small Moments like:

– When I visit my mother, and she has a bag of potato chips on the table, because she knows I love them.

 – When my husband drops me off at the restaurant, and then parks the car and has to run through the rain to join me.

 – When I am in a meeting, and someone turns to me and asks, “What do you think?”

 – When my best friend remembers some little thing we did together twenty years ago that I had forgotten.

 – When a  stranger holds the door for me.

 – When I finally get the Zumba step I have been screwing up for weeks, and the instructor gives me that little nod.

 – When a friend emails me an article or joke, and it is exactly the kind of thing that interests me or makes me laugh.

 – When someone waiting in line says – “Go ahead, you were here first.”

 – When my hairdresser gives me an extra long shampoo, massaging my temples in the spot that makes me go limp with pleasure.

 – When the waitress puts my plate down in front of me without asking who ordered the lemon sole.

 – When my niece says a certain song reminds her of me, and she is spot on.

 – When my dog gets off the couch to follow me to the bathroom. Every time.

All those tiny moments remind me that I am noticed. I am not invisible.

And then.

And then there are the BIG moments – the moments when I knew with all certainty that I was Noticed – that I Mattered – that I was Loved:

 – When I collapsed at home one night years ago. It was a gall bladder attack but we didn’t know it at the time. My husband (and I too) thought I was having a heart attack. I was lying on the floor unable to move or speak. But I could hear. I heard my husband on the phone with 911. I heard in his voice the mix of authority and urgency – and panic. In exactly the right proportion.

 – When I was leaving my family’s Christmas Eve party a few years ago, and my nephew – then 12 – told me that I couldn’t leave yet. He had something he needed to share with me. And I waited in the living room wearing my coat and gloves, while he stood beside me, leaning on me a bit, and read me a poem from a book he had received.

 – And six years ago – when I was visiting my dying father at the nursing home. He had only one day left in his long and happy life. He could no longer speak, and as I sat by his side, he smiled at me, and silently put his hand to his heart.

*

Old_hands

Photo by Marina Guimaraes, Creative Commons Usage

45 Comments

  1. Your words made me feel noticed. Thank you.

    Like

    • Thank you for the kind words.

      Like

  2. Donna W.

    Your Father’s hand to his heart as he smiled at you made me cry … very tender and touching. I love the way your husband lovingly protects you.

    Like

    • The night of my gall bladder attack – sometimes he is not so good in an emergency because he doesn’t do “medical” well – but he was terrific. Calm, but insistent.

      Liked by 1 person

      • This sounds like a full blog post. I recently went through a medical emergency with my husband. It was such a learning experience. I amazed myself with my calmness and logic while calling for help and directing the EMS group. He amazed me with a fast recovery. We learned a lot about each other in that experience.

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Lovely. Especially the friend remembering something that you had forgotten. Or when a friend says “You told me XYZ… and I never forgot.” And your father’s hands. Sigh. A friend told me to take a pic of me holding my father’s hand right before he died…did it for my brother also…and I was so grateful.

    Liked by 1 person

    • That moment meant the world to me. To know, at the end, that he still loved me.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Small moments and then those larger moments. Luckily we are all noticed at some time

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    • I think the worst part of getting old is becoming invisible. So I remind myself that I am not. Or if I am – at moments – that it can be very freeing – I can do what I want and no one will care.

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  5. I always love your writing because you are so honest and warm and funny at the same time. You know how to strum our heart strings. Keep going.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. It’s important to feel noticed but it is difficult to convey.

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  7. Great post 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  8. I feel the magic of that moment with your Dad. I was with mine, holding his hand, when he died 21 years ago come Saturday. I visit my Mum and hold her close, and she tells me she loves me and thinks of me every day. I write every week regardless, but she never replies. As for Hubby, just a smile, a touch, help with the washing up. Priceless.

    Like

    • My mother is 93 now. I treasure every second. It’s kind of strange I guess, but I love doing her laundry. Folding her clothes. It feels precious.

      Liked by 1 person

  9. Reblogged this on World4Justice : NOW! Lobby Forum..

    Liked by 1 person

  10. I love this one. So easy to forget the little (and even big) moments of life…

    Like

    • Just to be recognized as a person… some people seldom feel it.

      Liked by 1 person

  11. Just to let you know how special you are to me, whenever I have a nostalgic memory of childhood, you are almost always part of the thought.

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    • Our childhood was so precious – and so are the memories. Thank you for that.

      Like

  12. susanross2020

    Lovely Nancy. Thank you.

    Liked by 1 person

  13. You brought tears to my eyes, and that doesn’t happen easily.

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    • Oh, thank you. I love making someone laugh – or cry. I love evoking a real emotion. It’s why I write.

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  14. Wise post.
    Little things do mean a lot – and build into great mountains

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks – the big events are so rare. We need to treasure the small ones and allow them to accumulate into those mountains.

      Liked by 1 person

  15. I sometimes feel that my husband is not romantic or demonstrative of loving me. His Valentine gift to me for several years: Putting gas in my car when it needs it because he knows I hate doing it. Lasts way longer than flowers or chocolate.

    Like

    • I love it when my husband gasses up my car. Or drives me someplace when the weather is terrible.

      Like

  16. ErikaB (riotgrrl42)

    So beautiful.
    I love those moments with old friends. I have one friend that I met when we were 12. When life changed, as it does as you grow, we stopped seeing each other in person on a regular basis. She sends the most perfect one liner texts or a photo of her adorable daughter at random. The last one was something about the obscure punk song that was playing on the radio in her grocery store. It’s one of those things only we’d understand and I love that 22 years later we still have that.

    Like

    • I recently re-connected with my childhood friend. We had not seen each other in 50 years. And it was amazing how the connection was still there – still strong!

      Liked by 1 person

  17. Those are all wonderful ways to be notices, especially the last one. Thanks for this touching post!

    Like

    • Thanks. I had a wonderful father and he gave me a great gift that last day.

      Like

  18. What a lovely and accurate post. It made me smile, and then I kept on smiling all the way through the comments.

    Like

    • Sometimes we all feel a bit invisible, and just knowing that someone has noticed you – even in the tiniest way – helps us so much.

      Liked by 1 person

  19. Pam

    Loved your touching post! Thanks for sharing.

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    • Thank you for your kind words.

      Like

  20. Such a touching post, Nancy. Teared up reading about your husband during your emergency and your dad’s last moments with you.

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    • My dad’s last moments with me will stay with me all my life. I had a good cry too, when I was writing about it.

      Like

  21. What an extraordinary post. I almost didn’t get to the end (I usually try to read a week’s worth of blogs on Fridays and sometimes I admit to a bit of skimming), but I am so glad I read yours thoroughly. Even though I got tears on my computer.

    Like

  22. Beautifully written post, very touching, Lots of love to you.

    Like

Trackbacks

  1. Feeling the moment – Aheadguide
  2. Feeling the moment | Aheadguide

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