sǝuoſ ǝuıɥsunS » Down by the sea

I thought that this morning’s tasting party was the fulcrum of my experience so far as a father. I did. I walked about the beach today heady and grinning from ear to ear. Little did I know that I was about to be blown away all over again.

My son sat calmly under the palapa. We were smiling at each other, and sipping a limonada (mine con gas, his sin gas) when he suggested we build sand castles. I thought that was a great idea, so we ran to the edge of the wet sand and built two castles. The first one was organic and wide, made for the three “good guy space ships,” the second was a tall and threatening affair designed for the five “bad guy space ships.” We’re having a star-wars revival at the moment, Darth Vader and General Grievous reign supreme over the entire empire. The battle wasn’t going well for the rebel alliance, Emperor Palpatine’s ships were knocking out our communication devices and disabling our ships left and right. It looked like we were done for when a little red headed boy called Liam appeard, wide eyed and drooling over our awesome space ships. My son agreed to let him join my team. Clearly I needed all the help I could get. Poor Liam decided it was a good idea to pound his ship into the sand over and over saying “boom!” to himself with a drippy grin. Some help he turned out to be. So the empire defeated the rebels, and darkness spread over the universe.

We sat, my son in triumph, and I in distant despair, watching the sun dance off the ocean’s blue waves. I was thinking it might be time for lunch when my son rose from his place beside me, and ran to the water’s edge. I got up, dusted myself off and followed him leisurely. I trust my son. He isn’t a swimmer. In fact he really doesn’t even like to be wet. While he does love baths, the idea of getting his face wet is the last thing in the world he might personally choose to do. As I walked toward the shore I witnessed an amazing sight: My son walked into the water without provocation and began splashing in the little waves as they rolled gently into shore.

I didn’t say a word. I joined him. We splashed each other, and ran back and forth into the ocean. He ventured a little further out. At first he was checking to be sure I was right behind him when the waves came in, but soon he was actually telling me not to stand there, assuring me that he was fine. We had traded places. When I arrived in the water I was confident that we would have fun, that everything was fine. Here, standing under the glorious sun, up to my thighs in the sweet, blue sea, I realized that he knew everything was going to be fine, and it was me who had to check my impulse to save him from every swell, no matter how small.

We devoured the ocean. He asked me to put him on my shoulders so we could go way out to the big waves. I set his wet Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles bathing suited hips around my neck and held onto his knees as we walked slowly, cheering at the waves as they splashed my chest, and the spray rose up to sprinkle him. We laughed and cheered as the waves got bigger, and he kicked me like a horse when the surf subsided a moment, urging my on, forward, out into the sea.

We were standing fairly far out, the water was almost up to my neck, my son was gripping my hair, and laughing. The waves died down a little and a little face leaned over and kissed me on the forehead and said “I love you daddy.” We charged back to shore and splashed around some more.

All in, we must have spent four hours playing in the bright equatorial sun and warm, generous pacific ocean. There are pink stripes under my son’s eyes where he’d wiped off the sun screen, and strange red marks on my back tonight. We are going to stay out of the sun altogether tomorrow, but it’s a small price to pay for being present for my little man’s oceanic awakening.

Confidence, sprints out past caution. Little tiny hands reach up to the sky and seize the clouds, dragging them into focus, laughing with the mists as they dissipate in the breaking waves of a beautiful and poignant dawn.

My heart is full, and I am whole. My son, beautifully radiant, is sound asleep in his bed. Later I will crawl under the cover and snuggle up against him. Smelling his hair one more time before I fall asleep myself.