The Annual Picnic

Play is the exultation of the possible.
Martin Buber

During the summer, we lived in a small community, in a rural area, about a block from the beach. Every year, Daddy would round up all the members of the local property owners association, and plan a big picnic/barbecue. I don't remember much about the food, although I do recall the men all grilling (burgers and dogs is my guess) What I remember most is the races. We had potato sack races, wheelbarrow races, three legged races.......and probably many more, including speed races. There were prizes, although I have no clue as to what they were. I just remember spending the day playing in the park. That park is on the top of the bluff, overlooking our beach and the beautiful bay. All our friends and family were there every year, and it was always one of the biggest events of our summer. And of course, like most memorable things in my life, Daddy was right there at the center of it all.

Today was a beautiful autumn day. The sky was that bright blue you see best in October, and the air was warm, with only a hint of a breeze. Mom & I loaded Daddy into the car, and we drove back to that park. It was hard for him to get to the park benches where we wanted to sit; he had trouble maneuvering his walker on the grass. He persevered, with Mom & I on either side, helping him. We sat there for about an hour, watching a few sailboats gliding effortlessly across the water. We saw a school of bait fish swim through, frantically trying to escape from the bluefish that were right behind them. We watched as a a few terns and seagulls tried to catch supper.

We talked about those picnics today, and reminisced quite a bit. How much Daddy really recalls is sometimes hard to say. He wants to participate, so he does his best. Mostly, though, we just sat and enjoyed the day. It exhausted him (and us, as well!) but it was wonderful. I loved seeing him out and enjoying himself, even if only for a little while.