Has it really been over a year since the last time I journaled here? I cannot believe how fast life has been moving lately! My son is on the verge of his seventh birthday, in first grade and playing soccer with a local league. A year ago, I popped the question to my boyfriend, and as of August 30, I am a "Mrs." I am still doing freelance graphic design, but have also been working as a nursing assistant specializing in mental health of the older adult. My husband has been busy at work, creating preseason orders on outdoor products for Rutabaga, as well as getting geared up for hunting season.
As I look back over the past year or so, I realize that there was a theme to my life; living in the moment and enjoying life to its fullest. I am grateful to the many humbling experiences I have had in the past and have come to realize that every single moment is precious. I have moved away from wanting to share everything and watch the number of likes increase, to sharing a moment with the person next to me and developing a priceless memory that will last a lifetime.
For instance, this week we were back in Winter, Wisconsin, visiting the cabin my husband's family built in the late 1960s, nestled on the wooded shores of Perch Lake. My son, husband and I had three days to recreate in the national forest, recuperate from the hustle and bustle of city life and just be our outdoor-loving selves.
As we drove North from Madison, the trees lining the highway transformed from the deep greens of late summer into the most spectacular fall color palette I have ever experienced. The trees ringing Perch Lake were especially spectacular and ranged from gold to amber to rust and every shade in between. The lawn surrounding the cabin was already dotted with fallen leaves and the air had a chilly mustiness only autumn can create.
I woke up late one morning while there, not wanting to leave the comfort of the warm quilt in which I was burrowed. Eventually, I rolled over to my left and turned my head towards the living room. I slid on my glasses, focused my eyes past the living room and was amazed by the gift I had been given that morning.
The lake was glimmering with blue, purple and peach reflections of the cloud-streaked sky and steam was gracefully rising from it's surface. The sun was starting to peak over the silhouetted tree line, which shimmered as the wind jostled the golden leaves.
I quickly scooted to the bedside, swung my legs to the floor and slid my feet into my thunderbird moccasins. I grabbed my red wool shawl and wrapped it around my shoulders, then ran my ringers through my tangled strawberry blonde hair. I felt like I was experiencing a moment my husbands grandmother must have experienced on a chilly fall morning about forty years ago. Except in my mind, she is much more elegant then myself and a woman I aspire to be like someday.
I walked into the main living area and was greeted by the aroma of coffee wafting from the kitchen. I filled my stoneware mug from the carafe and went over to the rocking chair by the window. I sat down with mug in hand and again looked out the window.
This time I was greeted by an even more precious sight. My husband and son were standing on the pier, fishing rods in hand. As I admired the two of them bonding in the early morning light, my son's rod bent down as a bluegill went for the bait. He reeled in the gill, landed it himself and released it back into Perch Lake to allow it to continue it's fishy existence. My husband turned around and gave a big thumbs up, to which my son answered with a self-affirming jump in the air. They smiled at each other then resumed fishing.
I took a sip of my still piping hot coffee and realized how fortunate I am. I have been blessed with a beautiful family with an even more amazing place at which to create memories. I leaned back in the chair, pulled my legs up towards my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs. I sat there for a long time, just watching the two of them cast, catch, release, high-five and repeat. They were completely in the moment, bonding as father and son have for generations.
As I ran out of coffee, the two of them set down their rods and made their way across the yard towards the cabin. I rose from the rocking chair and walked across the cabin towards the kitchen porch. "Momma ..." I heard as I opened the door. My son ran in and immediately wrapped his arms around my waist, followed by my husband. I gave them each a kiss on the cheek and told them how much I love my fishermen. "We love you, too, Momma" they said in unison and as quickly as they came in, they were back on their way to get breakfast.
It's a couple of days later now and I am still admiring that morning. My few minutes of bliss that I will cherish forever. I hope everyone reading is able to experience special moments like this in their life. On a daily basis.
As time permits, I will share more and more moments like this on my blog as a sort of public journal. Someday, I hope to collect all of these journal entries and print them for sharing physically with future generations of my family. As much as I love the efficiency of digital journaling and archiving, there is nothing more amazing then the feeling of paper in hand while you are being transported to a different place.
So, until my next entry, I leave you with these word's of encouragement; get out there and start enjoying every moment. Make memories. Live fully. Love and be loved. Just be.