Jul
6
First, we drove to the family cabin on the Umpqua River and met JB’s parents, who took the boys back to Coos Bay with them. JB and I headed further south to Galice, Oregon, to the Rogue River wilderness area. We hiked nine miles on the river canyon—no roads, no cell service, just solitude and pure aching beauty—and stayed a night at the Black Bar Lodge before hiking back the next day.
We picked up the boys and drove to the cabin where the weather turned from gloomy to scrubbed-and-sparkling. We played in the water, fished, lazed in chairs, and ate junk food. Everyone smelled like campfire smoke and sunscreen. The boys ran wild with their friends and cousins.
Oh, I didn’t want to come home.
Actually, what it really made us think was: what if home were closer to all of this?
Thinking, planning, plotting. How to get from here to there.
Jun
28
There was a 5K fundraiser near our house on Saturday and when I saw that they had a 1K kids’ run I decided to sign us up as a family. I wasn’t sure how Riley would do, since he’s prone to going boneless two blocks into our neighborhood walks and announcing how TIRED he is, are we THERE yet, his LEGS are SO TIRED, etc, but I figured if nothing else we could walk the route together.
He was super excited about it ahead of time and was enthusiastic for the first half of the run but I could tell when it started to feel less fun and more tiring. He got a sort of grim expression and by the last stretch he was breathing hard and looking more than a little miserable, but he never stopped and walked. I ran with him, shouting encouragement, and there were a ton of young volunteers—bless their hearts—standing on the sidelines cheering and telling the kids they were doing great. My boy crossed that finish line panting and gasping, slugged a plastic bottle of water, then uttered the same words I’ve thought a thousand times after a race: “Hey, where’s my medal?”
Seriously, I was so proud of him. I was proud that he kept going even when it became hard work, I was happy that we could do something like that together.
Later, he used sidewalk chalk to draw arrows like they had on the 1K route on our driveway, and he and Dylan play-raced for most of the afternoon. I thought that was pretty cool too.
I sometimes get into this foolish mode of wishing the kids were older (because things would be more accessible/easier) or missing their younger stages (because things were sweeter/simpler). I forget it’s not about where we’re going or where we’ve been, it’s about right now. Nothing is more important than right now. Parenthood is this amazing rolling horizon, we move across a landscape and things are always receding because that’s what happens when you move forward. And that’s okay. There are always new things coming into view.
This weekend my boy and I ran together. Maybe running will become a positive, shared part of our lives. Maybe we’ll never do it again. Right now, it doesn’t matter.
-
My product review site:
[