Big weekend for our family. A weekend of firsts and more.
On Friday night, Charlie left for his first weekend of camping with the Boy Scouts. It was a big moment for him, but it was a big moment for me, too. We’ve been camping together with the Cub Scouts, but this was the first time Elysha and I handed him over to a group of Scout leaders and said goodbye.
I know this will become routine fairly quickly, as it did for me as a boy, but this first time felt fairly momentous to me.
A real step forward for Charlie and for me.
Saturday night was admittedly a challenge for him, with thunder, lightning, high winds, and torrential downpours making for a difficult night in a tent alongside his pal. He reported being cold, frightened and frustrated that he couldn’t sleep.
As I lay in my warm bed on Saturday night, listening to the storm rage outside, I couldn’t help but think that of the hundreds of nights I’ve spent sleeping outdoors, I’d never experienced a storm so powerful and so seemingly endless.
Charlie had to deal with it on his very first night of camping without me.
It was still pouring on Sunday morning, but the boy had a blast, and we were so proud of him. The Boy Scouts, in many ways, made me the person I am today. I have no doubt that the same will hold true for Charlie.
After dropping Charlie off with his Scout leaders on Friday night, Elysha, Clara, and I drove over to Riverbend Books to listen to poet and friend Anna V.Q. Ross read her poems alongside former West Hartford poet laureate Julie Choffel. Clara brought along her own binder of poetry in hopes of showing Anna a few poems during the reception, but when she discovered that the event would begin with an open mic reading, Clara immediately added her name to the list and chose a poem to read to the standing room audience.
She ended up reading two poems in all. I’d never heard either poem before, and I loved both. Perhaps even more impressive, those poems taught me something deeply profound about my daughter that I had not known until then.
She was poised, captivating, and brilliant.
I’m quite certain I could not have done the same at her age.
On Saturday night, Elysha and I produced a Speak Up Storytelling show at the Connecticut Historical Society.
As Charlie braced for the coming storm somewhere in the woods of Ashford, Connecticut, I performed to a full house alongside four other incredible storytellers. We listened to stories about escaping Egypt after a conviction for political activism, meeting and becoming inspired by climate activist Greta Thunberg, traveling to China just days after 9/11 to begin a year of study abroad, and confessing to your very conservative, very southern family that you’re a Democrat.
Amazing stories told by truly amazing people.
I told a story about making a woman cry in a McDonald’s restaurant. I was obviously the least impressive of the bunch.
Elysha hosted the show, of course, in her customarily brilliant fashion, and Clara and her friend managed the merch table, selling books, tee shirts, and totes, processing credit cards, and answering questions.
Another first for her.
Our family rarely enjoys a lazy weekend, but this one was special indeed.
“Firsts” are important. They are the sign that we are moving forward, expanding our life, and testing our boundaries. This weekend my kids experienced some important, momentous, courageous firsts.
And as parents, they also served as first for Elysha and me, too.
It’s one of the joys of having children:
Constantly, relentless evolution and advancement into new, previously uncharted territory.
How lucky we are.
