Wii. Kindle Fire. DVDs. Ipods. So much money and time spent on them. But never, NEVER, have they captivated my children as did this:
We caught him like this. Staring off into the distance. I couldn’t see his face, couldn’t read his mind. And he didn’t notice we had come up behind him….he was totally lost in thought. I didn’t ask him what he was thinking; didn’t invade his privacy.
My Captain and Varmint, equally touched by the moment as I, joined him on the edge. And the three of them gazed down, onto what, I knew not.
But they just lay there, staring, silently. Every now and again I’d hear a quiet murmur and see a head nod in agreement. They were captivated.
Age, Time, Reason….all of it was suspended. I have no idea how long we sat there.
Eventually, I crept up to see what kept them so mesmerized. It was nothing more than the movement and clarity of the glacial water….fresh off the mountain’s waterfalls as it has flowed for centuries. This water is so clear…this picture is at a depth that is chest deep, and it looks like it’s only inches deep. And ICE COLD.
Eventually, my tummy grumbled. Most of our tender moments end that way, and this was no exception. I’d be embarrassed, but I’ve come to terms with who I am, and what my priorities are. So I heaved myself up, suggested we search for a bite to eat, and asked the kids to first face me for a picture so we could remember this moment. Usually they gripe and roll their eyes. But this time….
…..this time they wanted to remember.