But then we arrived at the lake.
All bets were off.
There was a boat on the lake playing easy tunes that reminded you of Saturday nights with your best friends after skiing all day. The sun was beginning to set and you could feel that it was a special moment, one you wanted to hold onto in your head so you could pull it up in the cold of Winter, in the wake of Dallas traffic and the frustrations of I-35, in the stress of finals, perhaps even when you were too old for water sports.
He stopped and looked around. I tried to pose him, but he was respectfully distracted with a smile on his face. He wasn't on his phone. He wasn't thinking about what he would be doing later, or the newest video game. He was completely in the moment, in nature, in communion, smiling at the scene, the lake, the boat, his dad. I wanted to know what was in his head, but my youngest child and my husband have that same connection with nature. It centers them. It calms them. It is a gift they treasure.
Eventually, we did get our lake photos and then just lingered there for a bit until we talked about what restaurant they should eat at before they headed back as they had travelled to get there. When I asked what kind of food they liked, they said, simultaneously, Italian. Maybe I should have guessed that with the last name of Rizzo, they would know authentic Italian food. I sent them to Grimaldis and hoped for the best.
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Paul brought a suit with a great tie and shoes, a blue shirt over a white T-shirt and his favorite black converse shoes so he pulled off the business man look as well as the James Dean look.
