"Dad? Can we do something fun this weekend? You know, like we did when Mom was alive?"
He stopped typing and looked over at his son. "Yeah. Of course we can, buddy. What were you thinking about doing?" It took all the self-control he had not to tear up. She'd been gone close to two years now and yet he still thought of her every day. So much so he found it difficult to spend the kind of time he needed to with his son.
In fact, he found it hard to do much of anything although he did still work out in his home gym as a way of relieving stress. At 41, Micah Gibson was in very good physical condition. Mentally however, he was still a wreck although not nearly as much so as he'd been that first year which was worse than anything he could have ever imagined. This past year the acute, constant pain and heartache was giving way to a kind of chronic sadness. It was still difficult to deal with but nowhere near the debilitating grief of those first 12-15 months.
Connor had just turned seven, and although Micah did spend time with him, they rarely did anything together other than eating or reading bedtime stories. He'd heard that spending time together was all that really mattered; that 'quality time' was just a myth. But he knew just sitting in the same room while Connor watched DVDs or cartoons while he worked from home wasn't cutting it. He loved his son to be sure, but there was no real bonding going on. Claire had always been the glue that held the family together and he was so completely lost without her that every day was a struggle just to survive.
"I don't know," his son told him. "Jonathan's dad took him camping last weekend and he said it was fun. Maybe we could do that."
Micah had always enjoyed camping. As a kid he'd loved going with his dad and every once in a while his mom would join them. They'd get up early, have something to eat then go fishing at a nearby lake where he'd spend the day goofing around and looking for things more than he fished. The evenings also held pleasant memories sitting inside the tent where his father cooked the fish they caught that day as they talked about baseball or whatever else came to mind.
He quit going during his later teen and college years, but once he started working full-time as a software developer, he rediscovered how enjoyable it was to get away for a couple of days and spend them in the peace and quiet of the woods or out near a lake. Claire didn't exactly love camping, but she was always a good sport about it and usually went with him. That was even more true after Connor was born. They'd gone two or three times a year until Claire had suddenly and severely become gotten sick with a rare form of meningitis just days before it took her life. Since then, he hadn't been once and still had no real interest in it, but he did need to spend time with his son.
So while he wasn't excited about going camping, he really didn't feel like going to a ball game or the skating rink or the batting cages or even playing video games. He just wanted his life with Claire back and that was the one thing he couldn't have. He knew it was unfair to his son who'd not only lost his mom, but he'd effectively lost his father, too, by his being so distant. He couldn't help it and yet he knew that had to change.
Money certainly wasn't the issue, so it wasn't like they couldn't afford to go camping. Micah made a ton of money and since Claire's death it just kept piling up in his checking account. He didn't even bother trying to invest it. Hell, he didn't even know how much was there and honestly, he didn't care. He couldn't remember the last time he'd written a check so he didn't even bother trying to balance his checkbook.
He exhaled deeply and said, "Okay. We can do that."
"Really? Dad, are you serious? Are we really gonna go camping?" Connor asked not sure he trusted what his dad had just told him.
"We are. I promise. But we're gonna have to go buy some new stuff because our old gear is in really bad shape. It was getting pretty ratty the last time we went and I don't want to be outside with a tent that has holes in it. Remember the last time we went and it rained?"
"Oh, yeah. I remember that! We went to Lake Hampton and went trout fishing. Mom caught the biggest one. Remember, Dad?"
He not only didn't tear up at her mention, he even forced a weak smile as he thought about her almost losing her pole when the fish took the hook and swam for deep water. Her rod was nearly bent in half as they stood there cheering her on as she reeled and pulled then reeled and pulled some more bringing in a nearly four-pound rainbow trout.
"Yes, I do. I thought that fish was gonna pull Mom into the lake."
Connor smiled then laughed for the first time in a long time. Yes, they definitely needed to do this and Micah knew he could use a break from writing and analyzing code or trying to develop some new algorithm to shorten this or that process.
Connor didn't care where they went or what their gear was like. He just wanted to do something with his dad. He was so excited he barely heard Micah going on and on about how they'd need not only a new tent, but mattress pads, sleeping bags, lanterns, a bug light, a camp stove, and other things he hadn't even heard of. All he knew was they were going camping and he couldn't wait!
Micah had read that Bass Pro Shops recently opened its first store in the Pacific Northwest in Tacoma just a few miles north of their home in Parkland, Washington. It was the kind of place he'd have loved as a kid and he was looking forward to checking it out the following morning. He'd called ahead and talked to someone named Tommy and when he got there, everything he'd asked for was neatly stacked and arranged for his inspection.
"Mr. Gibson? Pleased to meet you, sir," a young kid of about 18 with a name tag that said 'Tommy' told him. He pointed to the pile of stuff and said, "Everything you asked for is right over there. The tent, the sleeping bags..."
"Cool! Is all that stuff ours, Dad?" Connor asked before his dad could even respond.
"Yes it is, buddy," he told him.
"Which one is my sleeping bag?" he asked as Tommy smiled watching Connor run over to the stack of goodies.
"You can choose, Connor. Go ahead. Take a look."
"Awesome!" he said pumping his fist as he headed toward the nicely-stacked pile o' stuff. He saw two bags tightly rolled up and stuffed into 'stuff sacks.' One was dark blue, the other was gray.
"I want the blue one, Dad!" he called out.
Micah had to admit it felt good to see his son look so happy. "Okay, buddy. It's yours."
"Sorry about that, Tommy. He's pretty excited. Go ahead, please."
"Oh, no problem. We love seeing families happy," he replied having no idea how sad this one had been. "Yes, sir, it's all there. Let me show you. Oh, I need to let you know we didn't have any two-person tents in stock so the manager said to give you this four-person rig for the same price. It's quite a bit bigger, but it only weighs a few extra pounds. Is that okay? If not, we'll special order one and have it here by Friday."
"Yeah, sure. It'll be nice to have a little more room inside so that'll be fine. What else have we got here?"
Tommy showed him everything else in the pile and Micah told him to ring it all up.
"So...where you guys headed?" Tommy asked.
Micah stood there and didn't say a word. The truth was he hadn't even thought about where they'd go. "Um, I'm not really sure." He laughed nervously and said, "Got any suggestions?"
"Actually, I do," Tommy said. He handed him a flyer advertising an outing Bass Pro Shops was sponsoring. "We have several openings left if you'd like to sign up. It's $100 for two nights and we'll also have a vehicle out there with some refreshments and a Registered Nurse—just in case. Oh, and there will be several Port-a-Johns, too. If you prefer roughing it, his might not be your thing, but we've done this once before and people really seemed to enjoy it."
"This is too good to be true," Micah told him. "Sign us up!"
He left the gear in the Land Rover for the next four days with the exception of Connor's sleeping bag. He'd practically begged his dad to let him sleep in it inside the house and that was an easy thing he could 'do with his son as long as 'doing' meant only having to say 'okay.'
