"You've grown." she said during a recent morning walk with the dogs. "I have?" I replied at first, consciously feigning modesty by responding with a question intended to illicit further emphasis, while choosing instead to acknowledge my agreement by repeating those two words as a declaration. "I have." I repeated.
We had been discussing specifics around the past few years we have shared, which we often do these days as I work out the framework of the book, still massaging it's pace, the sequence of events, the intensity of the emotions we all had to navigate (and still do to this day), and the place of elusive stability we have found for the moment, as a family.
Beyond my reflex compulsion to grill a few cheeseburgers and enjoy an ice-cold-beer-induced nap in my hammock, I find Father's Day an opportunity to reflect on my gratitude to be one. Each passing year has seen its challenges and obstacles, conflicts and resolutions, and in the best scenarios, growth for all of us.
This past year, in particular, has included significant evolutions and transitions, as well as honest discussions of family history, deeper insights being shared, and relative independence being well established. I have myself recognized and embraced the continuing shift from being seen as a provider to being recognized as the well-meaning (yet emotionally unprepared) person who said yes twenty-two years ago to fully adopting the parental persona, immersing myself completely in it, from conception to the present day.
I rode the Roaring Camp train from Felton to Santa Cruz last week. My day there was filled with reminiscence of experiences with my kids over the course of the past 21 years. The first day their feet touched grains of sand and the foam of the surf, carnival games and shooting galleries. bumper car rides closing a circle of my own, recursively racing to re-board the log ride, remaining upside down for a complete rotation in the Rock-O-Planes, and of course, numerous rides on the Giant Dipper roller coaster. Early morning fishing and crabbing excursions on the wharf accompanied by the sounds of barking seals from under the pier. Eating downtown at Kianti's, Betty's Burgers and Mission Hill Creamery. Seeking out the best 'hole in the wall' burrito spots, and numerous spur-of-the-moment trips with skim and boogie boards.
Spending the day walking about the boardwalk, wharf and downtown was like flipping through the pages of a 3D photo album of their lives playing out within my own. This immersion and awareness of years of seemingly isolated experiences all came together, almost as a symphonic overture, emphasizing how my efforts and engagement have culminated into an unparalleled and unexpected gift in return, for me.
On my return trip back through the redwoods, glancing out the window at the passing trees, I found myself contemplating my life's continued momentum, of having watched experiences passing by on their way to becoming my past, of looking back at the receding horizon while recalling experiences now well out of sight, feeling successful, accomplished and complete.