Image Description: Two, light gray, plush shark slippers are on a hardwood floor. They are both facing in the same direction. The one on the right is slightly behind the one on the left.
Story shared with permission.
N.J. is staying at my house this week. She is a great gift in my life — a person who is thoughtful, passionate, hilarious, boisterous, committed, tenacious, strong, and spontaneous. We met only a couple of years ago, but our life stories have some uncanny commonalities. Frankly, I marvel that we found each other.
She’s a student of occupational therapy. Yesterday, she left for her classes, and I began to do some things around the house. Soon after she departed, I came around the corner and spotted two friends who seemed to be awaiting her return.
There they were. The two little sharkies. She left her slippers behind, and they were just facing the back door.
Image Description: The shark slippers are facing the door in the sunroom.
This immediately made me laugh. They looked like they were waiting diligently for her to come back, eager to reunite with her feet so they could move around this house munching everything in sight.
But then after laughing, I had a sudden wave of gratitude. There is something so lovely about spotting pieces of someone’s uniqueness — symbols of who they are. And it’s an additional privilege when you have the gift of housing them, whether that’s inside a literal house or somewhere within ourselves.
These sharkies are aware they know someone special.
I’m aware too.
Smuggling Grace 