Go Ask Dad: Four snapshots of gratitude from a beach vacation

There was a trip several decades ago to a different beach when my grandparents invited me to play Rook for the first time. This a bidding game, like Spades, and the strategy was over my head. I must have been a liability to my partner! Yet, what I most remembered was the patience and kindness of the adults.

My younger son interrupted these thoughts by asking if we could play again. And I excitedly dealt the cards.

2. The next day I jogged to the end of the beach where the ocean met the sound. This was a short distance from where the rest of my family had set up on the sand, but was still a slog. I had not been running in months, preferring to meander through the woods with our new dog, a form of exercise good for my soul but not to raise my heart rate.

I plodded underneath the hot sun, paying more attention to my aching legs and ragged breath than the swimmers, sunbathers, or seagulls, when suddenly a small blond boy came out of nowhere and started running beside me. With a wild grin, the boy shot ahead! Not to be outdone, I managed my own burst of speed and, when I caught up to the child, both of us began to laugh!

A little way down the beach, I heard, “Andrew!” He and I stopped at the sound of our shared name. While the little one raced back to his mom, I continued down the beach to my own family, only now feeling a little lighter.

3. I slipped off to the grocery store after breakfast. With an extended family of 11 people, including 5 kids vacationing together at the beach, the meals felt like being a short-order cook. I had looked forward to a half-hour or so of quiet time in the car.

But as the wheels carried me down the road, my mind spun to various worries — some real, others imagined.

I filled my grocery cart with fruit, coffee, milk, and the fixin’s for tacos later that evening. I unloaded the items onto the conveyor belt. The man bagging groceries asked how I was doing and, still distracted, I mumbled “fine.”

“That’s good,” came the bagger’s reply, “it’s a great day to be in the moment.”

I stared at the man, his neatly trimmed white beard, his twinkling brown eyes. Who says such a thing? In a checkout line of all places? Who was this man? A saint?

Later that morning, I stood in the salty surf, holding my young daughter’s hand as she squealed with delight. It was indeed a great day to be in the moment.

4. My baby nephew cried in the middle of the night. I awoke, remembering what it was like when my kids were that young. My heart went out to my nephew’s parents, particularly his mom.

Then, I checked on my wife lying next to me. She was sound asleep. I grinned in the dark; she had earned it.