Most Alive Moment #Reverb10

Third in the #Reverb10 series:

Moment. Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors).

My moment I felt the most alive was fairly recent. Last month, in fact.

I was in a group setting with my daughter. If you met her, you'd know that she does her own thing. We were in a small location where I was at the opposite end of the room about 30 feet from her.

I was busy, engaged and talking with someone.

Her scream of pain hit my feet before it hit my ears.

There is no other way to explain how I was able to be moving before I could even think.

I know I was holding something, but I either dropped it or laid it down as I rushed quickly, but determinedly against a group of people to where I had heard her cry come from.

This was clearly not a moment of joy- it was a cry of pain. The last thing any parent EVER wants to hear from their child.

Thankfully, the other adults present did not overreact. My daughter was trying to help with a glass door that had too wide of a gap on the side and got her finger smooshed.

I cleared the room and about 30 feet in less then five seconds to kneel down at my crying daughter.

I took her hands in mine and remember how warm they were. I asked what happened and my trooper had the wherewithal to be able to sob out that he finger got stuck in the door. And she apologized!

I immediately assessed the finger to be fine (swollen, probably going to bruise badly) as she was able to bend it and thankfully calmed down quickly as kids will do when they are in front of adults they want to impress.

She is also so much like me- I think we lack certain pain receptors.

It was scary. My heart raced, but you never feel more alive than in moments of crisis or heightened awareness like that. I think we are built that way to make ourselves appreciate that moment. Like I am now.

Photo: timlewisnm

#Reverb Day Three: Moment. (sydneyowen.com)
I Love A Man Who Wears Toe Shoes (thefrisky.com)
A Moment, Quiet and Shared (kylydia.wordpress.com)

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