My Christmas Tree

A trip that revived my soul.  Went down deep and lifted me up like nothing else could.  The sand in this place left traces in my heart that brought healing and wholeness.

My husband knew.   In his kindness and understanding he knew what I needed.    He found us a condo on the beach in San Diego.    He encouraged me and helped me prepare for our trip.    He brought me to a place that opened up my soul and helped me to see things clearly.

Traveling always does this.   I long to hear the click of the car seats, the steady rhythm of the car tires on the road.    It always opens places in me that are pinned up and frustrated.   This time it was sadness, an aching in my heart for my family at Christmas time.

The moment our sandy toes started exploring the beach my sadness started to disappear.

Then out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of a Christmas tree.   A lone Christmas tree at the end of a pier.   I was so tired of Christmas trees and all they symbolized that I almost turned away in disgust.   But, I didn't.   I took a deep breath and looked out at that tree.  I looked at it in the fullness of the moment and put all my sadness behind me.   Then I saw it.   I saw it clearly.   It was beautiful.  

I realized that I was stuck.  Stuck thinking that Christmas couldn't be Christmas unless I was in Wyoming surrounded by everything that I had known for the past 38 years.   I didn't want to enjoy a tree that wasn't sitting beside Grandma and Pop's fireplace and I couldn't see beyond this. 

I loved the salty air, the sound of the waves going in and out and that one Christmas tree that started to symbolize my love for a Christmas far from home.   A different Christmas.  One where I was surrounded by my husband and four beautiful children.  Christmas in Pacific beach where my heart started to open up and my joy returned.

And, each day as we built sand castles and ran in the waves I looked up at my tree and smiled.   I was so thankful for it because it reminded me to close my eyes, breath deep, and enjoy each moment for what it was....not what I expected it to be.

The Fish

As we walked out on the pier the first afternoon we were at Pacific Beach we saw the fisherman throwing their lines into the ocean and I knew we couldn't just watch these fisherman every morning.   Catching fish part of my husband.    He can't walk past a pole and not have one in his hand.

So, the boys waited patiently as their dad when to get all the supplies we needed to do some fishing in the ocean.

And, early every morning we would head straight to the pier, fishing supplies in hand waiting for a fish to take our bait.

The first couple of days, we entertained oursevles on the pier but, had no luck fishing.   My husband doesn't give up easily.   

The last day we were serious.   He made friends with the local lady at the bait shop and she gave us some new bait.   I knew we couldn't leave Pacific beach without at least one bite on our line.

Then, those little sea perch started biting.   Owen caught the first one.  

Our slow, peaceful morning turned into pure exciment as we started pulling in these little fish one by one.   Even catching two at once.

 

It was Eli's turn to catch a fish.   He was so excited.   Yep, he is a Dahl boy.   He loves to fish!

Little Gracie also loved the excitment of catching all those little fish.   Her brothers would show her their prize and let her hold it for a little while.

As we walked down the pier for the last time holding our bucket of sea perch we felt our trip was complete.   The pride of a fisherman with a full bucket of fish can't ever be replaced.

The Ocean

Four days we played on the beach.    

We built sand castles and dug big holes.

We went for long walks and found lots of sea shells.

The boys couldn't leave their football back in Arizona.   They bring it with them everywhere.   Ready to play a game of football at any moment.

Football has become such a part of us that even Gracie loves to play.  Squealing and running whenever she has a chance to get the ball from her brothers.

Gabriel and Owen also learned how to Boogie Board.

Grace also gave it a try while her brothers took a break.

It is not very often that you will catch my boys lying peacefully together in the warm sun.  I cherished the quiet time that came after a morning of playing and pure exhaustion.

A day

There is the everyday.   The days that stretch on a lifetime until you look back and you know how fast they go.    The days that are filled with 4 children.   Filled with screaming and arguing, laughing and crying.   There is not a moment of quiet.      Contentment from all 4 is rare.   In these moments we learn and grow by playing.

Playing in the pots.

Arranging and banging.

Stirring and mixing.

Making pretend oatmeal just like her mom.

Cooking in the kitchen.  Football in the living room.

Passing and catching.

Looking for the first down.

Over the couch.   Under the fan.

Touchdown.

The game never really stops.

No one keeps score.

Full of emotion.

 There are other games also.

 

Games that a 4 year old likes to play.

To turn your back for a second means you come up on the unexpected.

A little girl in the recycling.

Rearranging the pantry.

That little girl coming to give me a snotty kiss after all the rearranging.

A timeout has been called in the living room.  Time to sit beside your brother and talk about game.

Time to discuss what to play next as the minutes march on.