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Ginger
Writer, project manager
I have been a freelance writer for 20 years, having received wonderful corporate writing and business training from my first job out of college at IBM. I am curious about ... well, almost everything and that's why I am so grateful that my job also brings me joy. I am currently writing a book about d...
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As Time Goes By

by Ginger

Friday, January, 25, 2008
Today I had a dream come true.
Jake and I were on the water, on kayaks -- beautiful, quiet, peaceful.
His dad was up on the dock ... strumming his guitar.
Jake and I cruise through the water, learning to maneuver the boats, laughing, teasing.
Doing something fun and physical and <gasp> something that doesn't involve an electronic screen or a handheld device.
After awhile we pull up next to each other.
Our kayaks gently rocking against each other.
Birds overhead. A heron. A crow. Some really big bird like a hawk.
And my son asks me a question. A question about a girl.
He asks my opinion.
He wants to know what I think about this.
I tell him my thoughts. Softy. Gently.
I ask him to tell me more.
And he does.
And we start listening to each other.
I hear in his words... his heart.
I hear in his questions, his fears.
I hear a glimpse of the kind of man he will become, just waiting in that young boy's body, mind and soul.
The way he knows that knowing someone is what a relationship should really be all about.
He says her eyes are "teal blue."
He says he doesn't like her just for what's on the outside.
How did he get so wise?
How I hope he will hold on to what he intrinsically knows, when everything from the outside will try to change all that.
I see in his face as he searches my eyes that he wants confirmation on these big thoughts he has.
He asks me if I agree with him.
I tell him I do, because I do.  
And I tell him that while what he believes is strong and true, if someone else does not believe it, it does not make him wrong.
Someone else's preference or opinion does not define you, I say.
So there we were.
Really talking and listening to each other. Learning about each other.
Respecting what the other one was saying.
Calm. Loving. Deep. Connecting.
On the water.
In our kayaks.
Twirling around. Bumping into each other. Still talking.
I don't know how long we talked like that.
Fifteen minutes? 20?
Enough for my soul to soar.
Enough to give me faith.
Enough to still be smiling about it days later.
 
Thank you.
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Lindysue
Lindysue
monthly blogs
Posted Mon, 02/04/2008 - 19:00
I used to look in the mirror and see the 12 year old child who was so terribly jealous of her younger sister. The one with the red curls and the ready smile. The one who EVERYONE loved just because she is in the room! Then I read her musings and am thankful that I can stand up and say SHE'S MY SISTER! The decades make a difference in how we look at each other,and I am so glad Gin, that the steps you took all those years ago, the scary part of going out onyour own have paid off. You are a wonderful person and my best friend. I love you and will miss your blogs. PS: It took me this long to figure out how to register and post a comment!