I posted this picture in a post last year, and I couldn’t shake it. I stared at it for a few minutes, and have thought about it often throughout the winter months. The picture is of my daughter May, and she’s kneeling in her favorite spot on the boat. While some (Thomas) would rather sit in the front of the boat anxious to see what’s yet unseen, May would rather quietly kneel on the back seat. Content to study what’s already been seen by others. She climbs on that seat, rests her head in her hands, and just watches. I’d give the world to know what she’s thinking when she’s sitting like that. Is she pondering the waves and the colors and the hum of the motor? Is she as captivated by the pure white of the wave wash that is distinctly and uniquely Lake Geneva in the same way that I remain captivated by that wash today? Is she picking out her favorite house along the shore, and secretly wishing she’d some day live there with her own family? Or is she just completely tuned out, lulled into a sense of peace by the motion of the boat, and the serenity of the view?
Whatever her thought process, she captivates me. Boat rides are a particularly favorite activity of hers, and I can’t really imagine a summer without being able to treat her to those frequent rides. I’m keenly aware of the importance of summer, probably more so than most, and even more aware of the bond that those boat rides create between me and my children. It’s not just a ride in some boat on some obscure lake. It’s a boat ride that my kids crave, and one that they think about, and talk about, all winter long. My dad went to look at another boat yesterday, and we’re supposed to take a trip up north this spring to look at even more boats. Wood boats. Classic wood boats. Lymans and Chris Crafts, both painted and stained. Perhaps I’m just boat crazy. Another boat loving fool following in the tradition of a boat loving father and grandfather, who is now busy brainwashing his own children into following in those same footsteps. Or maybe I’m just a grown up kid that remembers boat rides with my own father, and I’m dead set on bringing up my own children in the same way. Maybe there’s something to those boat rides that brings a family closer together, and something about Saturday morning boat rides that bond fathers to their children more than playing Wii Sports with them ever could.
For now, I’ll sit in my warm office and struggle to trudge through a winter that has long since grown stale on me. I’ll think summer, and when I think summer, I’m going to think about those glorious Lake Geneva boat rides that I so love to take. I’ll think about the pure joy on my children’s faces when we load into the boat, and picture little May, another year older, but still positioned in her familiar seat with the sun warming her shoulders, watching the waves and the water, completely, no- blissfully unaware that there are other ways to spend sunny summer afternoons.