The ballpark where Jackson plays baseball has a long winding creek that runs next to the parking lot. There is a bridge that crosses the creek, and right under the bridge there are lots of big rocks that form a waterfall in the creek. In Jackson’s mind the creek is his own version of a raging rapids, but in reality, it’s a slow moving, little creek, much more comparable to a lazy river at a water park than a raging rapids, but who am I to dash the imagination of a little boy?!?
We went to the batting cages on Saturday for Jackson to try out his new bat. On our way back to the car I found a long stick, perfect for breaking tiny pieces off, and Jackson and I headed to the creek to have a race with our sticks. On the count of “3” we threw our sticks into the water and Jackson ran on ahead to the bridge so he could watch his sticks go through the rapids. I walked alongside the sticks as they navigated the water, and kept Jackson updated on their progress. They were moving very fast at first, and then headed into a slower stretch of water where they slowed down greatly. I was able to walk over to the bridge and stood with Jackson as we waited for our sticks to cross under us, and then head through the rapids. We sat there for a minute or so before the sticks made it, and then cheered as they drifted through the rough waters and then floated away until we couldn’t see them anymore.
As we were walking away I said to Jackson, “Thank you for racing sticks with me.” He reached over and grabbed my hand as we crossed the bridge and said, “You’re welcome, Mama. Any time!”
It was at that moment that I realized I need to add more time in my life for racing sticks, and less for racing to do all the other pointless stuff. Just like our sticks, the days are floating away faster than I realize, and before long my chance to do silly stuff like that will be gone and my man-child will be too big for holding his Mama’s hand.
So until then…I plan on racing sticks and throwing rocks into the creek every time we go to the ball park. I’m not letting these silly days of childhood with him float past me any longer.