(Please take a moment to listen to the song by For King and Country)
My son text me this morning the usual “Whatcha doin’”, and
of course, I was “Doin’ nuffin.” Then he
asked if I would like to go for a “hike” with him and my granddaughter, Hannah,
at the park. Of course, I don’t consider
the park a “hike” per se, more like a meaningless stroll, but I agreed just to
spend time with him. I asked if it was
ok to bring along my friend, Charles, and he agreed. Charles and I had been planning to go work
out at the gym, but being outdoors sounded so much more fulfilling.
So off we went to the park, and all the way to the back of
it. This park borders the Rillito
River. For my own purposes I call it a “wash”
since it rarely has any water in it, and aren’t rivers supposed to have
water? However, as many times as I have
been at this park in the past 40 years, I never knew that the river could be
accessed from the park. So I thought, this could be an adventure. My heart has been miserably in need of an adventure.
At first, when I saw the steep incline that led down to the
river bottom, I was scared. I have
broken my leg twice, injured my back, dislocated my shoulder, all on the left
side, and I tend to be a little off balance, you might say. At 63 years old, I
have been told to “be careful” so many times, it feels like at any moment I am
sure to injure myself again. But my
strong son had an answer for this. He
said, “Just put your hands on my shoulders and I will lead you down. “ And so I did, setting off on what would be a
most beautiful adventure.
Once we got down the incline, I saw that some kids had been
playing there, and had made a maze. Also
Hannah, having arrived there before us, had drawn two huge feet, indicating
that Big Foot was around somewhere. Something
that had been dead inside me forever began to stir.
Hannah said we should follow the tracks, my son said we
should go the opposite way, and indicated where a nice well-travelled trail
led. We went the trail at first, but
then the child inside me woke up. The
men were behind Hannah and I, having a deep discussion about theories of
evolution and the countering theological debate that ensued lasted the entire
time we were there. That left Hannah and
I to pick our own path. And pick it we
did! Off through the brush to find the
bamboo we could see growing in the distance, and down the sandy wash toward
what appeared to be a campsite. Then as
we were weaving back and forth through the brush, we came upon a fort. That special kind of fort built by ten year
old minds with the only tools available, sticks and a dead tree. Hannah and I
made our way up to it, and went inside, in spite of the “NO TRESPASSING” sign
that was crudely stuck on the branches.
There, within the circle of the fort walls was a fire pit. Now I was really on a roll. But it was time
to head back to the car.
Hannah and I headed off our own way, through the brush, down
a fence line, wondering what we would find and laughing. The debate continued on behind us, as we
picked the path, through stickers, brush, dead branches and sand. I found a marble and gave it to Hannah. We found some old sticks. And I found something else.
Over the course of the hour and a half that we were there, I
was 12 again. Running wild in the best
of two worlds, with my brother John in the Fountain River and with Hannah on
the Rillito river, with no boundaries. In
that brief time, I found a part of me that I thought had died. The part that is still a child and wants to
explore and find adventure in life.
I am sure my doctor will have a hissy fit when I tell him
about it. So maybe I won’t. Or maybe,
just maybe, I will tell him that the most important part of being human is what
is inside, and then tell him to go find someone else to plague with
restrictions and medication. After all,
God made me to Run Wild, Live free, and Love strong. And I can’t do that cooped up in some box.
Next is the Zip line!
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