I came to the lake exhausted, drained. Weeks and weeks of little sleep, emotional turmoil and heavy responsibilities had worn me to fray. My days were so full that I couldn’t find a moment to think.
But at Lake Powell, there is nothing but time. Time to relish the company of these people who know and love me fully (and oh, how we missed Ben!). Time to laugh at each other’s jokes, slice a melon for every meal and line up seven sleeping bags as we admired the Milky Way.
Time to leap off the houseboat (our first time with a houseboat, which was both terrifying and wonderful),
teach Gabriel to ski
paint pink toenails,
learn dumb card games,
(as Hans channels his inner Brad Pitt)
swim for hours
(Mary and I wrapped our arms around each other’s shoulders and kicked back and forth across the lagoon),
learn to slalom,
and to cut,
eat ice cream,
and drive the boat.
They call this the “football team” pose,
but Mary makes it cuter.
To spare him sunburn we bought Gabe this $5 shirt at Walmart’s; but his absolute lack of competitive spirit made us laugh at the words.
Mostly we just laughed at everything
admired the sunsets
and sailed for home revived and renewed.