“Look at her.” I said to my wife.
“No hands. Geezus.”
I was watching my daughter zip-line down a steep hill, through trees, over a creek. Without holding on.
She was laughing as she sped past.
My little girl was stomping the earth.
It was our last full day of vacation up north, and we were at Historic Mill Creek, having already done the fort and the lighthouse. After an aborted attempt on a previous vacation, we were surprised when she asked if she could do it.
“Are you sure?”
“Oh yeah! I did it at nature center camp a couple weeks ago and I loved it.” All casual.
After crossing the rope bridge, and zip-lining, one progresses to the climbing wall.
Any one of these would have been a non-started for her, seemingly just days ago. It should not have surprised us at that point, but we watched enrapt as she determinedly made her way up the wall, problem solving with her feet and hands. It was not easy for her, but judging from the grin after she finally dropped to the ground, it was worth the effort.
And, oddly enough, it made me a little sad at the same time. She had, alarmingly, grown up some more, and did so when we were not around. We witnessed her second zip-line experience, and clearly she had been working on her rock wall climbing at camp, too.
This did not seem fair. Not just that we were not there, but that she did these things and the folks who WERE there, didn’t understand what they were witnessing…
I brushed those thoughts aside, enjoying my new addition to favorite dad moments, and happy to have the opportunity to be with my family right then, right there.
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