Alas, we traversed into Stackhouse Park for one last summer run at creekside adventure. My 4-year-old had evolved into a waterway waterwoman - fully adaptable to rushes of aqua and pools of H2O. My 2-year-old girl is a tempermental salamander hunter. She is Crocodile Dundee one minute, Alligator "No Thank You" the next. Together, they are blessings.
As we adventured in the creek, my wife provided supervision and support from the trail. When my 2-year-old tapped out, the love of my life signaled for my 4-year-old and I to venture on. As the sun began to set, we all soaked in the last days and rays of summer. The heat was welcomed. The cool of the stream was refreshing.
Under rocks and in creekside crevices, we found those slippery salamanders. This amphibian hunt was exciting and silly, two adjectives I could attach to all my fatherhood feats. When our adventure was coming to a close, my eldest daughter and I found a surprise in that cool water. A hatchet, with a canary yellow handle, bounced between geological bumpers, awaiting our discovery. I was that Dad emerging from the Stackhouse stream, daughter in one hand, weapon in the other.
The ride back home was typical; chatty, combative, and precious. My 2-year-old is currently in a stage where Mommy has to buckle her in. Not only are Daddy's buckling skills inferior, they are downright detestable. If you watched me try to buckle in my Saint Patrick's Day baby, you would believe I was a lunatic incapable of compassion and curbside courtesy. If she had to celebrate one more vehicular holiday with me, she would opt to find the nearest cliff.
Alas, I love my life. I love my kids. I love the vulnerability I sleep with at night. Not knowing what tomorrow will bring. Not fully capable of understanding what happened today. Knowing that family life is my plot.
As summer turns to fall, I enthusiastically look ahead. On September 11, 2019, I picked my 4-year-old up from school. She was innocent. She was awesome. I remembered what September 11, 2001 felt like so many moons ago.
I am grateful for my daughters' teachers. I am grateful for my family and the adventures we have had to date. Last Sunday, by the grace of God, I stumbled upon the book, A Walk in the Woods. The author writes the following as he hikes the Appalachian trail, streching from Georgia to Maine: "Life takes on a neat simplicity, too. Time ceases to have any meaning. When it is dark, you go to bed, and when it is light again you get up, and everything in between is just in between. It's quite wonderful really. You have no engagements, commitments, obligations, or duties"
On this final day of summer, I felt that simplicity. The joy of being with my daughters. The joy of being with my wife. The roar of the stream. The quiet of nature.
The 2019 summer was a hoot. There is a unique hooray when autumn arrives.
Support your community and treat every season as a blessing.
Support your community and treat every season as a blessing.
