Deja Vu

Last spring, I worked alongside other parent volunteers to pack up a trailer of goods for States, the last regatta of my son's senior year after four years of rowing. I was sad to see the end of this era, both for him and me. But today, we hiked the trail along the Occoquan today to see him row once again. It seems that college couldn't keep him away from the early-cold morning workouts, shouting coxswains, and unisuits. And boy, are we glad. Because without an excuse to be outside, we might not have hiked through thick forest for a view of a sparkling river. The wind would surely have kept us inside for mundane tasks like laundry and grocery shopping. Memories of pushing our youngest up and down the treacherous dirt path brought us relief to see the same boy running up ahead, now five. Our middle son was definitely less put upon this time, too. Maybe because he wonders if he might row sometime soon. Plus, we saw our college kiddo gliding by in perfect accord with his team. It is moments like these, I'd be happy to revisit again and again.