When I was a little kid, let's say 5 years old, I had a lot of stuffed animals. When I went to bed, I tried to have all of them with me in the bed and hug them all for the whole night. Of course, not all of them would fit, so I tried to rotate them, giving different ones turns each night. I never wanted any of them to feel left out or neglected.
So there I was, at least 5 animals on each side. Trying, desperately to hold them all throughout the night. Each night, I tried to be very still, hardly moving a muscle, barely making a breath. As still as my 5 year old body could be. Inevitably though, I moved, I breathed, I tossed, I turned and eventually, some would start to roll off the bed. I hazily woke up in the middle of the night to pull them back on. Desperately, scrambling to no avail. Try, as I might, by morning time, only a few were in the bed with me and most were on the floor.
There are many moments in my life that have felt like that middle of the night moment, desperately trying to hold loved ones close, grasping for each one that was falling off, wishing I could stretch my arms longer so I could hold them better. Having most of them fall and still trying again.
Over time, I've learned it's not just about how much effort you put into holding on to someone else. Ultimately, whether they stayed or fell was not fully in my control - no matter how much I tried to hold my breath and restrain myself. That equation never fully added up.
Skip ahead many years, I no longer try to do everything just to "keep everything on the bed". Now, if I'm holding to you, chances are you are holding me too. And chances are, none of us are holding our breath, trying to stay extremely still or otherwise limiting ourselves to do so. Surprisingly, it turned out that fewer loved ones end up "falling off the bed" this way anyway. Who knew?