Last night, while reading bedtime stories, one of the characters in our book shared that his best experiences revolved around weekend camping trips to a nearby lake with his dad, brothers, and uncles.
Inspired, Ethan said, "You know what my best experience is?"
I thought he was going to say our family trips to Green Lake, Long Lake, or Markin Glen park. I thought he was going to point to the extraordinary, the times that break up the monotony of everyday life.
"This is..."
For a moment I didn't understand. Then it dawned on me... He means now.
THIS. Nightly moments in a big black chair (getting more cramped by the day), all three of us...together, captured by the stories of Narnia, Pa and Laura, Max and his Wild Things, Jesus, Lamont, and The Farmer...
Of all the incredible experiences of his life, Ethan's favorite...is this.
Suddenly, humbly, like a bolt of lightning to the heart...I know it's all worth it.
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One of my greatest fears is that I will, little by little, begin to forget the series of seemingly insignificant events of my boys' early years. Perhaps I fear this because I know that these years are THE most formative. On second thought, it's not so much that I fear forgetting but I fear that there will come a day when I do not know my own children. Perhaps my hope is that if I pay attention now...I will know them better then, and in turn, they will know me.
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