One With The Wind

One of the amazing things about having nephews and nieces is watching them grow. Much like with children of our own, we know them from the time of their birth and we know many of the intimate details of their lives. We likely see or hear about their first steps, their first days in school and their first dates. We are there when they graduate, when they are married and, we meet their children shortly after birth. But, unlike with the children of our own, we do not see them every day during their developmental years and we talk to them all to rarely when they hit the real world. We do not see their lives in the full spectrum of light. We just see glimpses from time to time. We know the title of the book of their lives, we may even know the names of the chapters......but we only get to read a few sporadic pages from time to time. We get the cliff notes.

So, when we are with them intensely, such as during the holidays or a family reunion, we come to better understand their views and their beliefs and their obligations and their passions. It is their passion that interests me most. Several are passionate about running and some about painting and sculpting. There is one cyclist. One sings like an angel....at times, like an angel in a rock band. And one.....Andrew.....he surfs with the wind. Should he see the combination of water and wind, he drifts out of sight and becomes an element of nature. Is he passionate about his craft? I should think so. Andrew arrived at our summer home with three sailboards of various lengths, several masts of differing flex, and a plethora sails of all shapes and sizes. When I questioned his need for all this equipment, he analogized it is follows: "Would a decent golfer carry one club around the entire course?" I shut my mouth.

Tonight, as dinner was being served, many were asking me, "Have you seen Andrew?" I said no but I had a hunch where he was. So I set forth to the beach and the setting sun. I found my nephew there, playing with the wind. Manipulating it. Teasing it. Using it to get his way. As he saw me waving him in from the end of the dock, he shot through the rays of light. Thirty years ago I held him as a newborn in my arms and held high hopes that he would be a man of strength and brilliance. Tonight, as I saw him sail towards me in this magical light, I knew my hope had come true.

Andrew is out Fourth of July boy. He was born on the cusp of this holiday and, every time a see a firework explode in the sky, I see him sail into the wind.

If you have time, please see in large.

I am happy to tell you that, after 52 hours, our power was restored a few hours ago.....and that I have an espresso, my third, sitting next to my keyboard. I have not tasted better coffee in months and, now, our family reunion carries on in a fashion which better represents modern times. I have not even read many of the comments on my blip from yesterday as this is my first time on the internet since last night. But, I want to thank you all for your warm words. As many of you have pointed out, my family shall forever refer to this as 'The Blackout Reunion". The stories of our challenges will only grow with the years.