The Task At Hand

Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might.

—Ecclesiastes 9:10

When you work on a team and you have a boss and projects and deadlines, when you get to the end of something, someone says, “Good job.” Or “Thank you.” Or “Wow, that was smart and helpful.” But Henry never looks up at me when I’m changing his diaper and says, “Good move with the wipes, Mom. Very thorough.” He doesn’t look up at me when I’m trying to get him to go back to sleep in the night and whisper, “Fabulous technique with the shushing and rocking. You’re a genius.”

It doesn’t matter to Henry one little bit that I can speak French or explicate sentences or cook really good roasted salmon. What matters is that I can be there with him as long as he needs me. What matters to him is that I play with Froggie, his favorite toy, one more time, one more time, one more time.

All my life I’ve been multitasking. I’m good at it. I don’t want to be braggy, but I’m kind of a champion multitasker, really. And all of a sudden, what’s valuable is not the multitasking, but the single task—being with him, only him, doing nothing else.