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"I'll Keep You Company"


When my daughter was four years old, we drove into the city to visit the Museum of Science. After our visit, we drove down the ramp of the rather dark, seemingly deserted parking garage, only to find that the unmanned gate refused to lift. I’d prepaid for parking, my credit card had worked moments ago, and yet the gate refused to budge no matter how many different ways I inserted the card, how many buttons I pushed, or how many curse words I uttered under my breath.

Fearing we were stuck for good (why is it that any predicament I’m in, I’m sure it’s going to last forever?!), my frustration mounted. While I sank deeper into problem-solving mode, I was less aware of my observant daughter in the back seat, who by now had probably learned some new words (I’m an out-loud thinker) as well as absorbed some of my frantic energy, and yet wasn’t making a peep.

After two LONG minutes, the gate decided on its own, with no help from me, to glide open and grant us our freedom. Driving through (I may or may not have used subtle sign language to tell it how I felt, hopefully out of view of the back seat), I decided to stop before pulling onto the road to see if I could shake off some of the irritation.

“Phew!” I said out loud, (of course, but this time on purpose) to reconnect with Nina. “I felt really frustrated back there. I’m so glad we’re out of that garage.”

Her little voice floated up from the back seat. “I know, Mommy. You were really mad.”

“I’m sorry I lost my temper.” I said. “I’m feeling better now. You waited really patiently back there. Are you okay, honey? Were you worried?”

“Oh no,” she replied calmly. “But I knew you were, so I decided to just keep you company.”

And with those magic words, all my residual stress melted away.

I decided to just keep you company. Such wisdom from a small child.

How many times is that exactly what we need in life when we’re struggling? Someone to simply keep us company. Not problem solve. Not suggest. Not judge. Not mirror our feelings and contribute to the issue. Just keep you company.

There’s power in the simple action of offering loving presence, and nothing else, to someone in need. Nina’s simple words “I decided to just keep you company,” are a gift that I’ve carried with me ever since that day. In fact, they’ve become an important part of our family language.

When my son confided in me through tears after an incident on the school playground, “Every time I get left out, I get a lump in my throat that’s pain,” I had some choices.

I could immediately problem solve with him (“Who else could you play with?”).

I could reflect his feelings back to him (“You sound sad.”)

I could nod absent-mindedly while distracted by my phone.

I could get indignant that he was snubbed.

I could get teary myself (“I hate to see you so upset!”)

Instead, I decided to just keep him company. I simply sat down next to him and slid my arm around his shoulders. After a minute of crying, the story poured out of him. I didn’t say a word. When he stopped talking, we sat quietly for a moment and then he said, “Thanks for keeping me company, Mom.”

“You’re welcome.”

Then we both moved on with our day.

So simple and so powerful. “I decided to just keep you company,” stirs something deep within me, something I know has always been there.

Long before Nina’s words worked magic on me, I sat next to my grandmother’s bed at her home as she was in the midst of the hard inner work of passing away. She wasn’t talking - or interacting much at all - at that point. I wasn’t even sure she was conscious, and so I simply sat quietly next to her, holding her hand.

My grandfather walked in the room and asked, “How’s it going in here?”

Without any conscious thought, I answered, “We’re just enjoying each other’s company.”

And with that, my grandmother’s face lit up into a smile. A smile that I hadn’t seen for several days, and that would, in fact, be the last one I saw. She gave my hand a slight squeeze and in that moment, I knew that, just like my daughter almost twenty years later, I’d stated a simple heart-truth.

“I decided to just keep you company” is almost always a good choice.


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