An emotional weekend. Out in Turlock, with Aidan, his team scored in the last seconds to secure a tie in yesterday's game and then won today, 7-0. They ended up with the best stats of any team in their division (most goals, least goals allowed, best goal differential), but due to the ref's blown call in game one, they finished second. No chance to play for the championship tomorrow, or to advance to Chicago for a national title, but a great effort anyway.
And a great trip for the two of us.
Today, I drove him the three hours from hot, hot Turlock to comfortably hot Camp Mather, which is San Francisco's family camp in the Sierras, nestled right next to Yosemite. You can't help but sense California history as you drive up there, past the places where gold was first found, and through valleys where John Muir created what today we call environmental consciousness.
We stopped at a tiny diner in a tiny town for a brunch.
At the camp, he reunited with his Mom, little brother and sister. I hung around for a couple hours. Back when we were a nuclear family, we went up there together, every summer.
Since then, they've kept going while I've stayed back here. Today was my first time back in eight years.
It looks the same. Several old friends were up there, and I got to talk with them. Best of all, when my youngest spotted me from across the beach, she ran over and gave me life's greatest gift, a big hug.
Her tall, skinny, 16-year-old brother soon emerged from a swim in the lake and gave me a gentle hug as well.
When it came time to leave, my soccer star gave me a hug and said something so simple ("Thanks for driving me all that way, Dad, and for being with me at the games") that it shouldn't have, but it broke me up.
Luckily, given my sunglasses, nobody saw my tears.
I'm not sure exactly where all the emotion came from, but I know I was remembering an earlier time, when we could go there as an intact family and spend all week together, forgetting things like email, bills, audits, illness, financial fears, and the loneliness of age.
Driving back to the city alone, I perked up. Mainly because the Giants were on the radio, and eventually these seven hours of driving along California's freeways would be over, and I'd be sitting here back home.
We lose a lot of things during our lives, and a lot of people. We lose more than we gain, it seems sometimes. But when those who love us give us hugs, all the good comes rushing back in, and the chills can be transformed back into warmth.
Wrapped in those hugs, tonight I am just fine.
-30-
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