Saturday, March 03, 2007

Underwater Dock

Within the past couple of years, our daughter -- probably just over 7 at the time, took this underwater, cropped photo of dear old dad and #2.
I like the picture as it was taken, obviously, underwater (one of those disposable, water-tight cameras). It reminds me of a fun Florida vacation with the family. It appears that I must have been a victim of the sun (and no-I-don't-need-sunscreen!-mentality) as I am swimming with a T-shirt.

But studying the picture, I love that I am supporting my son.

But not really supporting him -- I have placed my arm within reach of him and have pushed my leg out just so -- both to create "safe-zones."

"What, you are taking in more chlorinated water than air? What, your eyes have been cleared of bacteria by the pool-chemicals and you can't see? What, you're cold?

"Well, I will always -- always -- do my best to save you. But, just in case, you'd like to be a little nonchalant about the whole thing, feel free to grab my well-placed arm or land on my just-so leg -- I'll make you look good, let you grab your breath, and allow you to swim away at will.

"And on those occasions where you'd really just like to rest for a while -- who cares what other people think -- I'll also be there to pull you out of the water, wrap you in a towel, and give you a shoulder and a shadow for summer-napping.

"We're family . . . we're friends . . . and I'm an underwater landing facility."

Good stuff.

Thursday, March 01, 2007

What If?

What if. . .

you remembered to brush your teeth every AM and every PM?

you read a favorite book everyday?

you hugged your wife and kids at every chance?

you connected . . . really connected . . . with your friends each and every single time you saw them?

you wrote your thoughts -- all of them in a journal a few times a week?

you slept 8 hours each evening?

you had a dog?

you had a god?

you seized every moment? You thought that the next day might be your last? You were told that you only had one year to live and - then - just then you got it -- really got it -- and you lived hard and you lived well -- you hugged, you were honest, you loved, you made mistakes, and you turned it up to 11 . . . and you did that for each of the next sixty years of your life?

you woke up each day and thought, "holy crap, I can't believe that I'm still in bed because I am so damn happy that the sun is getting ready to come up again because I get to go do ____ all day today and I get PAID for it -- people pay me to be me and to be good at being me and I help them by being me . . . and I really like it."

you tapped your foot (no, I mean really tapped your foot so enthusiastically that people around you wonder if you're having a seizure) because you really, really like the music that you're listening to -- it is the Tacoma Narrows Bridge music to you -- it resonates and it builds you up, and brings a tear to your eye, and makes you forget to breath -- it is that good. And it is reminds you of the stuff that is inside you . . .but now (through music) it is now outside of you for everyone to hear and share . . . if they are just on the same page?

you figured out your purpose?

you realized that hugging your bride, balancing your boys, and dancing with your girls was payment enough?

you had these thoughts and feelings and memories each and every single time that your sensed a new life. . . a new season . . . and your paired it with the similar feeling that you have each spring when you get your first waft of that well-known first-of-the-spring smell of fresh cut grass.