1. a gathering of people who have been apart
2. the act of coming together again
There was a full size pool table in our rental cabin but I did not play one game on it. Instead, I watched my boy’s toddler dance to good reggae on its surface and cautioned them not to throw the cue ball at my forehead.
There were three sets of stairs at the 2 neighboring cabins but I did not have to worry about their climbing skills. They finally have those down, taking them with more ease than I. My knees are killing me after 5 days of stair climbing.
And yet this kid can jump out of a tree like this. He is the daredevil.
We did not go out to any bars or have any quiet drinks. Instead there was an intense dance off on the 70s era shag carpet with the three small ones taking the center at every opportunity. And the bar? I did not sit at it, rather rescued my boys when they trapped themselves in the metal foot rest at its base.
I did play a few rounds of Passoi, the loudest one at the table, ribbing everyone else for their card choices.
I did eat three meals a day, but only cooked one of them. I canoed with the boys in lap and then solo, flipping myself out mid-lake at one point and being rescued by three strong men, all to the frantic cries of Mace in Tim’s lap screaming “Mama Up! Mama Up!”.
I did knit a bit, watch a movie all the way through, and watch naked babies cavort in the sand (Why do boys like to rub sand on their penises? Just curious).
Parenting is such an endeavor, adventure and challenge.
This weekend I was reminded to lower my voice and not even bother to carry a stick unless it was to throw in the lake for Mishka to fetch. I recalled that I am understood and known. I saw a woman surrender herself to the water, floating in abandoned bliss as her offspring giggled and admired.
Then I waded out with the camera to capture her and hug her.
Our world holds uncertainty and pain, sadness and obligations, loss and gain. But for these days I have sat in my world, surrounded and supported. And remembered we all grow up, take on new roles, rehash old ones, scheme about new ones. Discuss moving to a farm in Canada to live cooperatively.
Sometimes this world delivers. Delivers big time. Not with a slap in the face but with a smile, an embrace, a quiet moment with a baby girl singing with me on the shore, two boys exhausted in deep sleep taking up the better part of a California King size mattress.
Not a romantic vacation getaway. No rest, No quiet. But bliss. Oh yes. Bliss.
Addendum :: I did get a game of pool in after all...last night there, beer in hand, playing against my husband. Made me feel like a school girl. I love pool.