A Letter From Dad

What'd you get for Christmas is the familiar refrain, I heard it more as a kid and less as an adult, but still, after Christmas it's still the question du jour.  Nowadays my normal answer has more to do with shirts and socks than toys and sports, but this Christmas, this Christmas I got my first ever best ever moment with my son Jonathan.  Oddly better than his birth, better than birthdays or watching him in sports, better than singing him to sleep at night and better than hearing him tell me I'm the greatest dad.  

It's simple enough and strange in the simplicity, this moment I speak of so, let me share.  

Jonathan's grandpa Gordy had rented snow mobiles for the day and it was time for me to take Jonathan out for a spin (Jonathan's four and more than a half).  He got bundled up in his new boots and snow pants, his new hat and gloves, new camouflaged long under wear and pants, all set to go in the 16 degree Minnesota cool under a sunny bright sky over 4 inches of snow.  We were headed across Sylvan lake running from 30 to an engine revving 50 because Jonathan likes the thrill of the speed, past our summer fishing spots through the channel and towards the islands when we decided to take a stop to explore an island we've been by many times to climb to the top.  

Off our sled and marching through the snow I stopped to show Jonathan how to make a snow angel and we made them together.  We climbed to the top of the hill and threw snow balls, played hide and seek, discovered and followed animal tracks and then to, Jonathan's delight, went sledding on down the hill on our bottoms before reembarking on our sleds.

We took a trip across the lower, past the fish houses, and found a "secret" path to explore through the woods.  

After the trail through the woods We came back to the lake and found our next mountain to climb, parked the sled, and started to climb. Once on top we climbed over fallen trees, and ran through the woods till we got to our 30 foot summit.  And then the boy decided it was sledding time again.

"Dad, let's go down."

"No way."

"Aw, come on dad, let's do it."

"But Jonathan we might get hurt."

"No we won't dad,come on, lets go," with a grin and twinkling eyes.

"Jonathan, No.  Your nuts."

"Come on dad, it'll be great." (he was starting to sucker me with that mischievous look and his crooked smile), "I'll go first."

"No you won't, Jonathan look how steep it is."

"Come on dad."

And with resignation, "Fine, but let me go first."

I went half way down to a fallen tree and then had him follow, laughing like crazy as he went.  We slid down the rest and near the bottom where there was a five foot drop I turned and caught him as we tumbled to the ice and enjoyed high fives all around.  I had Jonathan jump on my back as I climbed back to the top carrying an extra load all the way to the top and then we found a hollowed out log to ride down the other side to make our way back to our sled.  

We visited one more island, one more mountain, before we headed back, repeating the routine again amid somersaults in the snow and tackles and hugs.  And like that it had happened and was but a memory.  

I'm not sure how or why or what makes for those most special moments when the world stops and your soul rejoices in just being, just sharing with the ones you love, but what I do know is I'd take less of everything and anything and more of those moments for every Christmas to come.

God bless.