"One of the greatest things about the sport of surfing is that you need only three things:

your body, a surf-board, and a wave."

~Naima Green

This past weekend was precious. My son, for a change, didn't have the plethora of friends over to visit and "game" on the PS3. In his lonliness, and perhaps (I hope) in his desire to spend time with "Mom", he joined me in surfing. It was the BEST weekend for catching waves. A southern swell was coming through, and the gusty winds of summer had fizzled down to a gentle breeze. The water was clear and glassy, and the waves were perfect for medium sized boards and folks who just wanted to play and have fun.

My son, true to his word, got up out of bed before his normal noon rise and climbed into the van with me to head out to Mondos. The beach was packed with early-bird surfers, and vacationing families, and finding a place to park was challenging. We pulled the van up to a spot, a quarter mile from the rocky coastal entrance, and got out to pull on our wetsuits. Sean's summer growth meant he was tall and lean, so his wetsuit fit around him but the ankle portion which once came down to his feet, now rose high above his ankles...a funny sight to see. And bittersweet.

We grabbed our boards, and hiked to the sand, and in moments we were paddling out to the curling water.  There was a time when paddling was difficult for him, and when the sight of a four foot wave coming towards him made him feel anxious. No more. This time he paddled past me, flashing by like a dolphin, and we pushed past the breakers where the waves pounded and foamed to the stillness of the sea.  We waited a few minutes, our eyes on the horizon, then the sets started coming. Taking time to choose the best of the oncoming water, we spun our boards towards shore paddling like maniacs and enjoyed the feel of the ocean lifting us, carrying us, side by side. So many waves!  We rode together and fell together and tumbled in the swirl of Mother Natures fluids. Laughing, snorting saltwater, tangled in seaweed, or hanging on for dear life as the white water thundered and took us towards shore, we LIVED life those hours. Present moment.

Near noon, cold and hungry, we returned to the van and rinsed off with the jug of warm water I'd brought. Afternoons were lazy as I read and did homework while he 'gamed' on the Internet, and then near dusk we went to the park and skateboarded. I'd just bought a "Kahuna board", a long skateboard where the rider pushes with a stick to keep momentum, and he taught me the nuances of skateboarding with it. Over a mile we skated, Saturday and Sunday, and the evening return to home was filled with rock music and 'cruising' down the street with windows open and music pumping base so hard the doors shuddered. I was a kid again...a big kid with my son.

I've made a deliberate imprint of this memory on my brain. This precious time before other girls take over his life. This time of laughter, and gangly innocence. The weekend is over, but I will remember that he enjoyed the company of his aging Mom, enjoyed sharing the water, and teaching me to roll over concrete as easily as we surfed waves. I will remember we laughed. Oh, how we laughed. And played. And together, we were young.