I just finished reading The Choice by Nicholas Sparks. Wow, what a book. If you liked The Notebook, or Message in a Bottle, then this is a book you'll want to pick up. I'm not going to do a review here. As I've said before, I don't really do reviews as much as I find insight in books that makes me think and then I comment about it.
I found a passage in The Choice that I loved. Travis Parker is having a conversation with his neighbor named Gabby. He is interested in her and she is interested in him, but things are complicated because she's already in a relationship with someone else.
So, they get to the point in their conversation in which they are talking about upbringing and family life. Here's what Travis says: "I remember going fishing with my dad every Saturday morning, and even though my dad was just about the worst fisherman who ever baited a hook, I found it thrilling. Now I understand that for my dad, at least, it was all about spending time with me, and I can't tell you how grateful I am for that. I like thinking that I can give my kids the same kinds of experiences someday."
I'm not sure when I first came to this realization, but life is about relationships--with God first, and then with each other. It's not about careers, hobbies, to-do lists, or anything else. All of those things are what we do, but they aren't the essence of life, nor do they bring any lasting fulfillment. They can however become a means for building relationships.
Years ago, I began taking my niece (her mom is a single mom) out to eat once a week. She likes going to Buffalo Wild Wings, so that's where we go. When we first started, we'd spend hours there, playing trivia games, talking about her life, and laughing our fool heads off. As she grew older, trivia gave way to getting her home early so she could hang out with friends. She isn't near as open about her life as she used to be (which is expected since she is 17), and I'm learning to deal with that.
With all of these adjustments came the desire to just spend time with her and to let her talk if she wants to. I don't want her to see our time together as therapy and I don't want her to dread our time together. Many years from now, I just want her to look back at our weekly meals as a time in which she spent time with someone who loved her exactly as she was.
I doubt that I pull that off successfully very often. I have a tendency to ask too many questions about school, and friends, and everything else. And I'm guessing that her friends view me as one of those odd uncles that every family seems to have, but I'm willing to risk being viewed as odd if it means that my niece is able to look back someday with the same type of fondness that Travis felt.
Ironically, as I sit here writing this post in a coffee shop, I just got a text message from my niece asking, "What r u doing?" That led to a flurry of text messages in which we discussed the common things of life. But I felt good knowing that our relationship is more than common. How many 17 year-old nieces spend time texting their uncles when they could be texting a hundred other people?
