Riding the Waves

Joseph is a cautious kid.

He always has been.

Even as a wee lad, he'd stare up at a particularly daunting playground slide, shake his head, and say no. He's not one to leap. Rather, he's one to stare pensively at the situation, assess the risk involved, and determine if the reward outweighs the danger.

Sometimes his hesitation is taken for a lack of confidence.

Sometimes, it's taken as cowardice, if such a term can be applied to a seven-year-old.

Both, of course, are not the case. He has enough self-confidence to stand firm when other kids are jumping off the bridge, figuratively speaking. And he's brave enough to not be worried by what others might think of him.

My struggle with him as always been to push him, to not repeat the Mommy Mantra of "be careful", to let him know it's okay to jump and, sometimes, fall. My job is to make sure he doesn't eternally stand on the edge of life. I know, I understand, the most important decisions in one's life require the ability to risk, to jump.

Which is why I celebrate when he leaps.

I'm cautious around the ocean. I have a healthy respect for a body of water that claimed the life of my uncle, a body of water that's known to be fickle. I've passed on that respect, perhaps not going so far as my mom's oft said warning of "never turn your back on the ocean", but I've made sure that Joseph and Elizabeth know to be wary, that sometimes a current can pull your legs out from under you, and the area around the rocks is deeper than it appears.

On the Fourth of July, we went to the beach where the kids jumped the waves. I had on my suit and stood in the icy water with them as wave after wave buffeted our skin with tiny shards of sand and stone. I held Elizabeth's hand while we raced the water. I watched as Joseph sat, letting the waves brush his chest.

And then, he asked for the boogie board.

He walked out a little deeper with Steve until the bottom of Steve's shorts were dark with saltwater. He listened for a moment while Sarah told him to lay down on the board. He stumbled a little in the constant waves reaching to his waist. As Steve tried to explain the physics of boogie boarding, Joseph lay down and Sarah gave him a push.

He rushed to shore on the power of water. I couldn't see his face. I couldn't read his body language.

Until he stood up.

His smile was wide with wonder and excitement.

"Did you see me? That was fast!!" He danced around the ankle deep water and raced the retreating waves back to us. "I want to do it again."

And again.

And again.

And again.

I love it when I see him take a risk. I love that he forgot the idea of danger for just a moment. I love that he embraced the energy and excitement.

I loved that he let go and rode the waves.