A chance to just be with their sons on the edge of the teenager years
Our small band of backpackers tramped away from our lakeside campsite, through boulder strewn alpine meadows and a small tarn, following Quentin.
He had found the perfect bear bag-hanging tree. It was perched on a small knoll amid other trees, but 20 feet up its trunk was a fat branch with few obstructions.
We, two moms and our 12-year-old sons, did it all together —finding the right-sized rock, wrapping it snugly in the end of the cord, tossing it up over the branch. After several rewraps and tosses and much laughter, we got the line in place and then hoisted the food until it dangled far above our heads.
It was such a little thing, but it was precious because our husbands, both capable outdoors men, weren’t around.
We succeeded at the bear bag, setting up the tent, and even more so, hiking with full packs past Stuart Lake on a steep unmaintained trail to Horseshoe Lake.
Gratitude overwhelmed me that this trip came together. It was a last minute decision, squeezed in between other commitments. We could have easily skipped the adventure, making our lives less hectic, but we seized the opportunity.
Kids’ lives spiral upward in busyness in middle school. As moms, we’re there for them, driving them everywhere, watching their sports, double checking their homework.
But Meleah Butruille and I wanted a chance to just be with our boys. We both have daughters and somehow the one-on one time with chances to have deeper conversations are more plentiful than with our sons.
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة September 2017 من The Good Life.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك ? تسجيل الدخول
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة September 2017 من The Good Life.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك? تسجيل الدخول
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