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On Saturday, our church held its first Family Fishing Rodeo.  I have to be honest – this was not exactly high on my list of things I wanted to accomplish before the end of the year.  I am not much of a fisherman – the whole be still and quiet thing goes against my nature.  But, oddly enough, Gracie loves fishing and she’s actually very good at it – every time she’s been, she’s caught at least one fish.  One of our friends called and asked if we wanted to join them fishing off of their neighborhood pier. 

I don’t know what’s been up with me the last few weeks.  I’m feeling anti-social, anti-adventure, pretty much anti-everything.  Maybe it’s the fact I’ve been pretty bogged down at work, writing some pretty tedious code that never seems to perform exactly like I want it to work.  Maybe it’s Abigail’s incessant whininess – she’s still adjusting to an all-day school schedule and my usually sunny little girl is melting down at least once a day.  Maybe it’s Gracie’s homework which is still getting the better of her.  She does have a lot of work, but it’s not excessive – it just seems to be taking her forever to finish it.  We’re working with her on better time management skills (and as I’m typing this, I realize the lunacy of me teaching her better time management…talk about the pot calling the kettle black).  I’m trying really hard to do a better job organizing our schedules, our budget, and our house.  Isn’t that a never-ending theme around here?  Whatever it is, I just don’t feel as carpe diemish as I usually do.  So, when Saturday morning rolled around, what I really wanted to do was get caught up on laundry and dishes and maybe just hang out on the couch.  WHAT?  Who have I become?  Gracie, though, wasn’t having any of that.  She pleaded that we go and fish.  So, we did.  I planned on staying for about an hour, heading home to do some stuff, going back up to church for the fish weigh in and basket dinner, and then being back home for good by 3:30 p.m.  We “fished” for three hours, went straight to church and stayed there for another two hours.  I’m so glad we did!  The laundry and the dishes stayed incomplete, but my girls went to bed slightly sunburned, exhausted, and happy.

The girls had fun jumping off the pier with their friend, Claire.

 

Abigail even jumped in off the very end (Gracie thought it was too deep!)

 

 

They played in the sand with hermit crabs

 

and the girls each caught a catfish!  I was really thankful that we went to our friends’ house instead of striking out on our own, because, I am not sure I would have been able to get the catfish off of the hooks without help!

At church, the girls weighed their fish.  Gracie’s weighed 1 ounce and Abigail’s weighed 1 pound and a couple of ounces.  They played on the playground for a while and then listed to a really interesting demonstration from someone from the Roy Hyatt Environmental Center.  They learned about TEDs (Turtle Excluder Devices) which allow sea turtles to escape safely from fishermen’s (particularly shrimpers’) nets.  Here’s Gracie getting ready to crawl through one:

 

They even got to pet a snake.  Here’s Regis:

Steve met us at church for dinner after he got off of work.  He made it in time to put Regis around his neck.

 

I put Regis around my neck, too.  There aren’t any pictures.  Mainly because I got mad at Steve because he was trying to cajole me into doing it and when I refused he said, “come on, you never do anything.”  Have I mentioned that I’m grumpy lately.  So, instead of sticking my tongue out him and proving him wrong like I would normally do, I got upset and sulked off.  Then, I got mad and put the snake out of spite, but by that time, Steve had wandered off so there was no one to document my insanity.  I really hope I get out of this fog soon!

So, for a day that was supposed to be spent quietly at home, it sure didn’t turn out that way.  The girls were certainly happy about that!

My dad loved macro photography. I remember the Christmas before he got sick that I went to visit my mother and him at their home outside of New Orleans. One morning, he told me to call walk down the long driveway and said about halfway down I’d see a tiny little pine tree sprouting up between the cracks in the concrete. I headed out with my camera and got a shot of the seedling…it was less than a quarter of an inch tall. I showed the picture to my dad and he smiled. “You know the thing I love about macro pictures?” I didn’t answer and he continued….”When you look through the camera for a macro picture, you see things that the rest of the world misses…” I think that sums up my dad – he often saw things that the rest of the world missed. Sometimes, I think that was a source of anxiety to him, but at least in the world of photography, it was a source of joy for him. I love taking pictures with my macro lens, but I never seem to take it out that often. So,I’ve decided that a least once a week, I’m going to put my lens on my camera and head out, searching for things that other people might miss.

I took this picture on Saturday at Pensacola Beach.  We were there for Abigail and Gracie’s surfing lesson!  Yes, you read that right!  Their surfing lesson.  I was unbelievable and I can’t wait to post the pictures.  Before the lesson started, I walked down the beach a little way and there was a trail of shells, some broken sand dollars, and some small pieces of driftwood.  I had brought my macro lens with me, hoping for just such a find.

 

Abigail only asked for one thing for her sixth birthday – a surfing lesson.  She’s been begging to go surfing for more than eight months.  I couldn’t find anywhere that would give her a lesson until she turned six.  Her daily mantra for several weeks before her birthday became, “How many more days until I turn six?  How many days until I can surf?”  Finally, two days after her birthday, she got her wish.  We took the girls out to Pensacola Beach and they had a private lesson with a surf instructor.  Steve and I talked the night before.  We were fairly certain that Gracie was going to be a natural – she has amazing balance and unbelievable upper body strength.  We were just hopeful that Abigail would be able to get up on the board at least one time.  She’s so little and her balance isn’t quite what Gracie’s is.  But, we knew that Abigail would enjoy herself even if she fell down.every.single.time.  Yeah, that conversation was pretty much a waste of time.  Because, here’s what happened:

 

She was an absolute natural.  She was able to get herself up almost every single time she went out.  The water was fairly rough that day, but our girl gave it her all and did incredibly well.  I was so proud of her.  She listened to the teacher, who was very patient and gentle with her, and she tried her very best.  More times than not, she would catch the wave and ride it all the way in to shore.  People sitting on the beach actually clapped for her.  But, she was so focused that she didn’t even notice.

Gracie did well, too.  But, she had two things working against her.  The night before, she read a book about two surfers who died in rough surf.  Now, I don’t think the rough surf they were talking about was the kind of rough surf we had, but when Gracie gets something in mind, it’s almost impossible to get her to let go of the idea.  So, she had that working against her.  Then, she had a pretty big wipe-out early in the lesson and the board ended up hitting her in the head.  So, she was pretty much done after about fifteen minutes.  She says she wants to try again when the water is calmer.  I’m just glad that she’s willing try try again.

 

Abigail would have stayed out on the water for hours and hours if we’d have let her.  Steve looked at me over the top of his sunglasses and said, “I guess a surfboard purchase is in our future.”  I’m thinking he’s probably right.

 

 

She ask me hesitantly, almost as if she expects the answer I’m going to give her, “Mommy, are you sure you can’t come have lunch with me today?”

I sigh.  It is 7:25 a.m.  School starts in twenty minutes.  We’re still doing last night’s homework.  The girls’ lunches aren’t made, because I have this rare ability to time warp us all from 6:15 when they wake up to 7:10 when we need to leave.  It’s as if that hour disappears somehow in a whirl of cacophonous chaos(“Cereal?  Where’s the cereal?  Oh, there’s not enough for a whole bowl!  Will that be enough for you Abigail?  Oh, wait, I found another box – a different flavor but not altogether different.  It will be okay?  Gracie, take your medicine!  Abigail, brush your teeth.  Where are the socks?  Why are there 28 socks in the basket but none of them match?  Why can’s Steve listen when I say it would be easier if all the socks were the same color?  Why can’t I follow through and have their back packs ready the night before?  Why was yesterday so hard?  Abigail, brush your teeth.  Gracie – shoes!”).  It is 7:25 a.m. and the day spreads out before me in one rushed task after another.  Work, scouts, pictures, a simple project for church, baking cupcakes for Abigail’s park “unParty”.  There is no way I have time to go to school and have lunch with my third grader.  No way.  Does she see that on my face?  When I told her earlier in the week that I would come to school today, the week didn’t seem so crazy.  It’s like my weeks are funnels, wide open and swirling with possibilities on Monday, but by Friday, I’m trying to cram a million tasks into a space only designed for six.  What was I thinking when I told her that I’d come and have lunch with her today?   She’s a fairly understanding kid.  I’m sure it will be okay.

“Sweetie, really, I can’t.  I’m sorry, really sorry.  But, I’ll come on Monday.  I promise.”  Wait!  Is that what I said to her earlier this week.  Did I say “I promise.”  No, I don’t think I did.  It’s okay.  She says as much.  “It’s okay, Mommy.  I understand.”  Her eyes cloud, but only for a moment and then she’s fine, laughing and finally putting her shoes on. It will be okay.

We’re running through the courtyard of their school, trying desperately to beat the tardy bell and a required trip to the office for me to sign a paper and explain why my children are tardy.  Gracie takes off for her modular classroom,  hair flying in the wind, her pink striped backpack bouncing as she run-walks.  She waves, “Bye, Mommy!  I’ll see you this afternoon.  I love you!”  and she’s gone.  I wave and take off after Abigail to make sure she makes it on time, too, to her class at the other end of the school  Time warping is in my favor this time, or perhaps the tardy bell clock is later than the clocks in all the classrooms that I see that say the bell should have rung two minutes ago.  I walk slowly back to the car and breath a sigh, not of relief exactly, but just acceptance.  Today is hard, it’s a busy day following yesterday’s busy day.  It will be okay.

I am home, standing on the cool tile in our bathroom and a thought strikes me.  How many more years, months, weeks do I have to have lunch with Gracie?  How many days before she decides that sitting beside her mother in a cafeteria full of her friends is a liability instead of a joy?  And, then, quickly behind that thought comes another.  DID I promise her that I would be there today?  I didn’t use the word promise, but don’t I teach her that your word is your promise?  I said “I’ll have lunch with you Friday.”  Did that imply a promise?  Of course it did.  Not going is a broken promise to her.  Yes, I have a lot going on today, but nothing more important than her, nothing more important than my word to her.  I rearrange a few things and let a few things go (farewell, cute little goodie bags for Abigail’s friends at the park).

It is 11:53 a.m. and I’m walking into the school cafeteria.  My head hurts from the noise.  I scout the crowd, searching with no luck for my girl.  One of my friends, a teacher sitting with her class, makes eye contact with me and points to my left.  I turn.  Gracie is running toward me, simultaneously breaking two rules of the lunchroom:  running and leaving her seat.  Joy is spread across her face.  I kneel down and catch her as she hurls into my arms.  “You came!”  she says.  I tell her, slowly and directly, “I made a promise to you.  I am here.  You are more important than anything I was doing.”  In that moment, all my past transgressions disappear – the times I’ve let her down because of work, the times I haven’t played with her because I was working on a craft, the times I haven’t read to her because I was playing a computer game, the times I haven’t watched her flip and twirl because I’ve been checking email.  It all disappears.  She smiles.  It is okay.

 

I no doubt deserved my enemies, but I don’t believe I deserved my friends.   {Walt Whitman}

Gracie’s two best friends moved this summer.  So did Abigail’s.  So did two of my best friends.  It was not an easy summer on any of our hearts.  Gracie’s best girl friend moved to Illinois in June.  They have been friends since they were three years old.   Abigail’s best friend is Gracie’s best friend’s little sister.  So, I guess they’ve been friends since they were a year old.   June was full of a lot of tears from all of us.  I am thankful for texting and FaceTime and Facebook and basically any technology that has the word face in it.

Gracie and Abigail’s best boy friend moved in August, headed to Italy.  Mason was in Gracie’s kindergarten class, so they have been friends for three years.  He is the brother my girls never had.  To watch the three of them together makes my heart smile.  Gracie and Mason are kindred spirits.  She could be having the worst day and not know where to turn and spending time with him would calm her and just settle her world.  She is going to miss him so very much!   Abigail just loves him, like she’d love an older brother.  Her eyes have filled with tears on more than one occasion since he left.  “Mommy, I just miss Mason so much!”.

My prayer is that all of our friends will be back here in the years to come, that my children will be reunited with the amazing kids who have been such an important part of their lives, and that one day, I will be able to hug my dear friends for real instead of just virtually through cyberspace.  In the meantime, it somehow helps to know that pieces of our hearts are spread out all over this amazing world, that our love travels over oceans and continents, and that friends are close no matter how far they may be.