“Look! It’s the Ocean!”
My son was excitedly pointing through the glass door that led to the hotel pool. We were headed toward the elevators just behind him. The surface was rippling in the fluorescent lights. It looked cool and refreshing. But “Its not the ocean son. I’ve seen the ocean.”
He persisted, then eventually forgot it was there. Several things, however, went through my mind as I thought about it later.
The first wasn’t really scorn. It was more along the lines of, “How do you know?” You’ve never been to the ocean. Never tasted the salt air or walked on the beach. Never felt the pleasant exhaustion that comes from walking on sand all day or invested time in a sand castle only to have it obliterated by the tide. Never felt the power of that same tide battering at your reserves, calling for your surrender.
Then it was sorrow for those same reasons. Poor child. He’s never been to the ocean. He has never stood in awe of its power or its size. He’s never had a chance to learn those lessons you can learn from the ocean.
I resolved to take him and show him the ocean some day. After all, how will he ever know the difference between a man made puddle and the power of the real thing if I don’t teach him the difference?
Now sitting and writing this I am still further amazed at how I can be thinking and writing one thing and end up writing something completely different.