The Cost of Distraction

A friend once told me she remembers the exact moment her father stopped really seeing her. She was thirteen, sitting across from him at a diner, excitedly recounting a story from school. Halfway through her sentence, his eyes flicked down to his phone. It was brief—a moment, really—but she never forgot it. “It was like a door closed,” she said. “I never felt like I had his full attention again.” Presence is not just about being physically somewhere. It is about