Last summer (the one a year ago, not the one we just had), our family visited Sleeping Bear National Park for the first time. Having previously prided myself on being somewhat of a traveler, I was stunned to realize that this beauty, this absolute gem of a place, existed right in the middle of our country and I’d never even heard of it.
As we drove and hiked and admired the natural beauty all around us, my husband declared that we ought to return in the fall, when the leaves were turning. I wholeheartedly agreed.
But you know what happened, don’t you? Soccer and football and school projects and life. We didn’t get back to Sleeping Bear that fall, or this past summer, either.
But this weekend, we watched two soccer games then headed north. We stayed a night in our cottage, watched the boys play in the yard, enjoyed the peace, ate at our favorite pub, and roasted marshmallows by the fire.
And then, we got up really early and kept on driving until we reached the national park. As expected, the leaves were breathtaking. On Friday, before we left, I despaired of all the things I wouldn’t accomplish at home: sorting through the mail that somehow continues to accumulate, even though I am constantly weeding through it; finishing the laundry that multiplies every time I turn around; printing photos that ought to have been printed months ago. And, yet… As we drove, I was thankful to have heeded to my husband’s request, to be enjoying the indescribable beauty and the time together as a family.
We had a lovely day, despite the hours of driving, and to the boys’ eternal happiness, we were able to listen to most of the Packer’s game on the radio, and to reach home just before the end, to see them beat the Colts.
As we sat together at the table and recounted all of the adventures of the day, we talked about our favorite part. Excitedly, my second son declared, “Seeing the end of the Packer’s game!”
It's all perspective, right?