Kintropy In Action

You know when you have A Moment:  a second where the world stops spinning you dizzy, sounds and motion pause, and you're just there.  Enjoying the there.  Forgetting the not-there.

I had one of those yesterday, July 4th.  Janette had just completed the play structure a few hours earlier, bringing a three-plus year endevour to a close.  I cannot imagine the joy she felt as both Hannah and Gabriel played on the swings, rode the slides, climbed (or were carried, in Hannah's case) to the top to look down.  Despite the heat, with the help of water and shade, both kids enjoyed the new play space.  More than that, the completion meant in many ways, we weren't in triage mode with Hannah.  We were moving forward:  a good independence theme for the 4th.

As evening set in, after the BBQ cooled, Gabriel and I went outside together, just by ourselves.  We sat on the swings, chatting about the day.  He was excited to start the fireworks when it was dark enough.  I was just enjoying the gentle sway of the swing.

Then I tipped backwards a bit, looking straight up into the sky.  An evergreen tree and our apple tree shook hands above me, parting fingers to let the dusky sky through.  

"Try this," I said to Gabriel, showing him how I tipped back to see straight up into the sky.

He copied me.  "Cool!"

And then there was quiet.  Just us, the trees, the cooling evening, the fading blue sky:  A Moment.  I held it for as long as I could.  Janette came outside to see what we were up to.  I encouraged her to try it, too.  She agreed it was a beautiful view.  Briefly, we shared A Moment.

Then it was gone.  I took a deep breath, refreshed, and I headed back inside.

-- Dad