Evenings in Yellowstone usually came with discussion about which loop the bison had settled in, and about who would host the campfire. It was a quieter life, often with laughter about daily life in a National Park. There was the story of a woman hiking in high heels, and there was the mother who thought the bear spray was repellant for her children.
Ya…I know. No comment.
There were others who wanted to know when we turned the geysers on, when we let the bears out, and yes, even someone who wanted to know where the giraffes were. You can’t make this up, so our evenings were simply a chance to bask in grateful friendship. But…
Nothing will catapult you into reality quicker than standing next to a man who has just learned about the death of his son….on Father’s Day. What do you say as he and his wife muster the strength to pack up, knowing their priority is to get home and protect the 20- year old widowed wife who carries twins? I am grateful for them, they raised a strong son who protected our freedoms and our way of life at 22 years of age. I am indebted to them, we live, love, and laugh without worry because their son wanted it that way.
He wanted it that way.
So watch the sunset with wine in a paper cup, ride on a horse named Hercules, even if you are afraid, talk to the ocean, watch the ants carry the crumb of kettle corn across the sidewalk, and let the spider live so the children can see the web. O.K. THAT’S overboard.
Just be reminded.
There is no greater gift then the gift of time.
Daily Post: Catapult