Net worth.

I had to answer...

Three different people today on 3 different phone calls as to what my “title” was and then of course, my bring home pay. You know, my "net worth."

And it got me to thinking after I jokingly said, “This job doesn’t pay a whole lot, I’m not gonna lie.”

As awkward silence hung in the air, I contemplated backpedaling into a more serious reply seeing as clearly, this lady had forgotten her funny bone at home alongside her pleasant disposition.

I often think I'm a whole lot funnier than the person I'm speaking to perceives me to be. But, I'm getting older and it just doesn't bother me as much as it once did.

That's one pretty great thing about being in your mid-40s. You're finally starting to feel comfortable in your own skin. Just as you notice it's all drooping southward.

Nevertheless, as I'm certain the lady is awaiting my mental return back toward the conversation, I can't help but glance over at the refrigerator to see one-of-a-kind artwork. A family portrait, nonetheless. The kind where every member is smiling perfectly and even our dog is strategically placed in the middle. I think it's ours, anyway. He doesn't have spots but it is what it is. We might have stick arms and legs but our shoes are seemingly the star of our whole outfit. We indeed all have quite large feet, it would seem, too. But a prized piece of art in spite of some slight differences of its intended subject. This is our family...right??

I then remember the oversized, chunky, hand-knit blanket carefully crafted in my favorite hues of greys & blues gifted to me by a daughter who learned how to knit… just to give me that very blanket for a special occasion. I remember the tears I bawled as it sank in what she had accomplished and for whom she worked so diligently to bless.

And when I was folding the handmade blanket, I had spotted a small little LEGO camera that my son had crafted from spare pieces because he knows how much I love photography. And I remember just how vehemently he despises legos. He would always give his brand new sets to his brother to both start & complete. He wanted to love them but his patience forced him to have a completely opposing view. He wanted something special to give to me that Mother’s Day. And again, I remember the tears that spilled over my face when it sunk it the depth of his sacrifice. For me.

And so at this point my mind wanders down a trail of memories from the past two decades where growing hands and hearts, helped alongside in the kitchen. Little feet learned how to run as “fast as Dash.” Round faces got covered in glittering makeup from the latest YouTube tutorial. Fishing reels were lost at sea, no fish to be found. And belly laughs. Lots and lots of belly laughs.

I recall walks in the neighborhood on a sidewalk, or along the waterways in our favorite town, and even down red clay dirt roads. Just talking. Taekwondo, soccer, ballet, gymnastics, guitar, drums, violin, and who knows what else they fancied to try. I remember it... all.

I stood nearly frozen in our kitchen while my soul reminisced some of the big and lots of the “small.”

I was there for it…. All.

And I suppose, for a second I didn’t feel jaded or stiffed out of anything. I’ll admit, it was far longer than a second. And as the solemn woman on the other end of the line snapped my mind back to the present, I simply replied... "There's really not a number you can put there, on your paper is there?"

It's priceless.