A Grandfather, A Granddaughter, A River

Most days are pretty good. Today was great! It’s almost summer and a Friday, sandwich me in the middle of that and it’s a tasty day. My beautiful granddaughter is visiting and we like to ring every drop out of a day, so kayaking and a bike ride seemed to be our likely choices. We loaded up the boats and drove a short distance to the river. Of course, there was no conversation . . . she’s fourteen and has an iPhone. I unloaded the kayaks and we dragged them down to the water. The river is low and there’s not much of a current. There are a few puffy white clouds in a perfect “Carolina blue” sky. A slight breeze pushed some ripples across a calm glass-like surface and we slide off the sand and into the water with barely a whisper. She paddles out to the middle of the river, and I hug the shoreline looking for clues as to what lives here.

A water snake drops off a rock when I get too close and glides along beside me until it finds a crevice in the rocks of a cliff that has come down to meet the river bank. It poked its head up and I reached out with my paddle and stroked its neck. The snake slithered up the paddle but fell off when it came to the narrow handle. I called out to my granddaughter to come and look but she was now on the other side of the river and the snake would be long gone before she could get here. She had stopped paddling and I could see her head was in that familiar downward position checking her phone. The breath of a heavy sigh rushed past my lips and I wondered how I could tweak her interest in the beauty that surrounded us.

She started a Taylor Swift fan page on X; it takes a lot of her time. Then of course there’s Snap Chat, Facebook, Tic Toc and returning all those texts. It’s a full-time job being fourteen. I paddled further down the shoreline.

The constant hum of a hundred million insects, punctuated by the songs of an indigo bunting and a scarlet tanager set the sound track for this unfolding scene. The breeze picked up and the wind that blew through the leaves of a nearby stand of sycamores sounded like a hundred people standing in applause. A huge snapping turtle swam beneath my kayak, its neck stretched out a full eight inches. Carp slapped their tails against the surface and an osprey drifted lazily overhead. I looked for my granddaughter. She still had her phone in her hand, but now she was taking pictures.

We pulled our boats up on a sand bar and got out to explore. A killdeer tried getting our attention by running along the shoreline pretending it had a broken wing. I explained to my granddaughter that she had young hidden somewhere close by and was doing her best to lure us farther away. So, we followed her, letting her think she was doing her job. When we were far enough away, she quit her act and flew back to where she had stashed her babies. Bubbles popped up from beneath the sand and we dug down looking for mussels. There are bald eagles along the river, so when I saw a large bird soaring overhead, I said, “Is that an osprey or an eagle?”

“It’s an osprey,” she said. She was right.

We walked to our kayaks and paddled back up the river. A doe came down to the water’s edge for a cool drink in the heat of our June afternoon. We watched her for a few moments, until she turned, stepped back into the woods, and disappeared like a ginger ghost.

A perfect summer’s day on the New River in Virginia. I looked at my granddaughter and tried to imagine what she was thinking. Her life hasn’t been easy. Her mother died five years ago next month. So, I try to cut her some slack when I feel a melancholy come over her and she gets quiet and a little unresponsive. Fourteen is a hard age regardless of your circumstances. Earlier today she asked me, “Do you think that people who don’t believe in God go to Heaven?” Usually, I try to answer questions like that with more questions, designed to provoke independent and critical thought. After all, I question God every day. I think He likes it. But today, I told her what I really thought.

And now, here we are. In the great cathedral of the living God, having church. Real church.

Loving each other and everything created surrounding us. There is no greater gift.

She’s fourteen and trying to decide what is real, and what will be important in her life. I already know. Today it’s kayaking and bike riding with this ever so beautiful, intelligent young lady.