This is it
The young adults sped off in the clamorous boat bound for the water skiing area of the lake. Left behind to the still serenity of the lake house cove were the near extremes of life's time continuum, the young and the old. The situation left me feeling both alarmed and blessed.
Their grandmother lured the two younger grandchildren upstairs for a nap. The resulting mild commotion quickly dissipated and an almost overwhelming tranquility prevailed. My ten-year-old granddaughter and I were left to entertain each other.
There were several games at our disposal... no TV set. After careful deliberations, we settle on a game of double solitaire. Actually, a solitaire-like game that Robbie and I have developed over the years, adding new rules and twists from time to time to keep it interesting. It's a relaxing game ending with the deck of cards lined up according to the rules, a characteristic that provides a sense of order and takes the edge off any competitive pressures that develop.
Paige won both games. Nearly apologetic, she made excuses for my run of bad luck. "Well, at least playing cards kept us from getting bored," she said.
"Yes, but you don't really have to do anything to keep from getting bored at times like this," I added.
"What do you mean?"
"Well," I explained, “there are times when you are not trying to finish something you don't want to do, just so you can start something else that you probably don't want to do... It's these times in between that make the other times worthwhile. We should just be still and say to ourselves, "This is it... ‘these are the moments I live for.’ We won't be bored.”
"Okay, uh.... Do you want to go down to the dock and catch some fish?” she asked.
The fish were as uncooperative as the cards. Although all of the kids had caught at least one fish, it seemed that I was just feeding them with a hook. Paige caught another one. Thank goodness, it was not a keeper.
"How about a canoe ride?" I suggested, while ignoring the chagrin of being reluctantly bested again.
There was a slight breeze and the canoe glided effortlessly through the water. In the distance, the muffled drone of the motor boats added a soothing rhythm to the setting, which alone saturated my senses. I felt strong, alive, and as if I had just achieved a difficult milestone. There was success, hope, and purpose packed into a moment much too small to contain it.
I rested the oar briefly while staring into the beautiful lush foliage that outlined the cove, enjoying the bliss of the moment. During that rare and wonderful moment, I heard Paige whisper, almost under her breath... "This is it..."
"Indeed it is," I thought.