My Favorite Shelf

I have a favorite shelf in our house.

It’s tucked just off to the side of our living room, right where I pass by on my way to the bedroom. It’s beautiful, but not flashy. It doesn’t demand attention, just a subtle burst of color on that wall of the room. But it stops me every time.

Kendra arranged it…of course she did. She’s got a better eye than me. I’d probably have pipes and tobacco tins lining the shelves. Instead, this shelf is layered with warm woods and textured objects, a few carefully chosen books, and just the right colors to make it feel like a quiet moment. It’s esthetically beautiful, sure. But that’s not why I love it.

It’s the photos.

Just a few. A moment from each of our kids' lives. Most were snapped on their wedding days. Great days. Joy-filled days when everything about the future felt cracked wide open with possibility. In every photo, it's them and their people. The ones they chose. The ones who chose them back.

And that’s what gets me. Every time.

I don’t just love those pictures because they’re my kids. I love them because of who my kids have become, and who they’ve chosen to walk through life with. Spouses. Friends. Family. The people who make them better. Kinder. Stronger. More fully themselves.

I walk past that shelf every day. And each day it’s a reminder of the good stuff in life. These are some of the small treasures you get as a parent. Not the photos themselves, but the stories behind them, the people they point to and the relationships they represent.

And for a dad who still can't believe how fast time has gone, that shelf serves as a kind of anchor. A still point in the blur of many years of parenting and a reason to pause, smile, and feel deeply grateful.

Quietly making noise,
Fletch