Actually it started at 9:00 am. My dad was up all night and wanted me to bring him to the doctors office. So too urgent care we would go...
Turns out he needed a catheter.. I know. Gross...
My Wonderful Wife took the three Bubs to Church service and I missed it.
Didn't even get to watch Charles Stanley before I left...
When I returned and finished my coffee, the two youngest started asking if I would bring all three of them up to The Victory Mills Monument. Their mom brought the trio sledding there the day before and the snow was slowly beginning to melt. Unfortunately, I was busy cooking an unmentioned mystery meat....
I told them I'd let them know...
Remembering last year, I realized that they really didn't get the chance to sled much. Guilt began rising inside of me... It wouldn't take a whole lot of effort, on my part...
How could I say no?!?
Actual hoots and hollers followed the announcement... I was proclaimed the best dad ever...
They really wanted to go, it seems...
Off we went on a 1/4 mile car ride, three kids, three sleds and one foam cushion to keep my tooshie from freezing, during the wait.
They ran up the hill and around the monuments perimeter. There were two little girls and a twenty- something daddy, taking turns going down the hill.
The three McMonkeys yelled and screamed and began diving onto their sleds from the
third monument step...
I set my tooshie warmer on the iced granite slab and sat back watching...
Usually being a dad is a mismatch of referee, wardrobe attendant and safety officer. Someone always needs gloves fastened and tucked under the cuffs. Someone usually is thumping another multiple times, on the noggin, with a sled. Someone seems to get an idea, every single time, to dive off the three foot granite slab, onto the sled, firmly resting on an ice packed snow trail...
And sometimes that CPR class I took at work seems like it might be a worthwhile investment of time...
So I watched these three children of mine laughing and joking; they used their amplified outside voices for the entire duration of our stay...
Soon the young girls and twenty something dad disappeared and were replaced by five kids my middle boys age. They said " hi" and my boys kept sledding together like long lost buddies...
I watched them together as they played together and my heart warmed.
They were acting like brothers....
Not the nagging, arguing, fighting and frustrated ones that they often are...
Not the sullen, quiet screen staring children, hunkered over LED lit screens, thumbs a blazing....
Not the nipping little shadow monkeys that lean over each other shoulders, doing all they can to aggravate and harass their brethren....
I mean the kind of brothers that are enjoying each others company, actually preferring it... The kind that demonstrate an invisible bond and have been reading each others non verbal shorthand without effort...
The kind that instinctively watch out for each other. The ones who conference the plans they are making, plans that include them all. Give and take...
I worried sometimes, that this part of their relationship might never develop. I know it took a long time between my brothers and I...
Maybe that is one of those deeper dad worries, that never coherently surfaces in our daily monologues...
Secretly, I think we all want to know that if something happens to us, that our sons will be able to rely on each other; take care of each other, be loyal too and prefer each other over schoolmates and friends, when chips are down...
It is a nearly impossible trait to teach. It must be individually developed, throughout years of tight quarter tolerances and petty annoyances...
There are no guarantees, only quiet hopes, mostly, unspoken..
And they spent the entire two and a half ours getting along like this. Even when I gave a twenty minute warning, they stayed together, rushing down the hill, sleds together...
My heart was happy. I tugged my ski cap back down over my ears, rubbed my gloved hands together and wrapped my arms across my chest. The cold had begun reaching my core enough to give a noticeable chill, but that was ok...
I wanted to watch this...
We went home a little while later too three hot cocoas and one hot tea, water heated and mugs and packets prepped by my Wonderful Wife.
I headed straight for an afghan and the couch. A few minutes later I ran upstairs, tossed on my long, thick terry cloth bathrobe and then rushed back down to the couch and abandoned afghan...
I must be getting old...
It struck me that maybe God sits back and waits to watch the exact same occurrence between His children. That maybe He spends just as much time and concern wanting to observe all of us, acting like that...
That maybe His heart sinks, just a little bit, when we fail in this little task...
But God does have the benifit of not being encumbered by obstacles like space and time... He has no need to worry...
But for us dads, it will always be a bit more uncertain. We will always worry because we love our children, and like it or not, worry tends to fit into even a faithful Christian dads job description...
We try to limit it but know that in many moments, that will be little use...
And when it owns us enough, eventually, we will gracelessly attempt to turn it over.
We will struggle more and when all our earthly resources are completely depleted, we gratefully hand over the control we never had... To Him, who had it all along...
It is the season of peace on earth and brotherhood of men...
But there are many other, less pleasant seasons transpiring, at this moment..
Not so hopeful, not so peaceful...
I'm not sure about those seasons. They are Gods seasons, to direct...
All I know is that on a cold and wind whipped hill, I watched a fraction in time of what is possible between all men. Most of my body froze, but my heart was warmed, as I observed it...
My tooshie stayed warm, too...
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