The annual family paddle fell on a Sunday in July this year- the one day we could all manage it. The exact time of year matters less than the event itself. Cool water, melting sunscreen, the short rush of class 1 rapids, a stop at the “beach” for a float and some sugared sour candy. The tune of “hooked on a feeling” fading in and out as it drifts nearer and then further over the water from a glitchy waterproof speaker tossed in a dry bag. Somehow this paddle became part of our identify, a family tradition that is as sacred as a holiday.
Thinking questions: What traditions are worth intentionally cultivating? How do shared events shape our family identity?
Happy summer, friends! ☀️