Confession time. I like to organize things. Perhaps too much. If I could, I would even organize the magic moments of life, you know, so I could have a camera ready to capture that moment, or at least not be looking elsewhere when something amazing happened.

I guess this need stems from my ability to always be looking in the wrong direction. “Hey, did you see that UFO land on the parliament buildings and leave a flaming bag of poo on the front steps?” “Ah, no, I was looking at the ant by my feet.” Or, “The Eiffel Tower just lit up!” “What, when? I was looking for a hot dog stand.”

But I’ve come to realize that magic moments are like fishing. Not that I fish or anything, but I’ve read about fishing and once watched someone fish, so, yeah, I’m kind of an expert. Anyway, magic moments… fishing…

The way I see it, you can’t catch a magic moment every time you set one up. Like you can’t catch a fish every time you cast. But if you cast enough and fish in the right fishing hole, then sooner or later, you’ll snag something.

So when we went camping, I went with the idea that I can’t create a magic moment, but I can set up lots of opportunities for one.

One could have happened while we were rafting the river, but I was too busy trying not to pass out from having my nuts banged about. One could have happened while I was sleeping. One could even have happened when I wasn’t there, though being a narcissist, I’m pretty sure the universe revolves completely around me and nothing would happen without me.

We did have our moments, though. Building the dam on the river with the 2 boys was one for sure. The water, cold and sparkling, did its best to babble by us, and for a while, it could not be tamed. Little by little, though, rock by rock, the boys built a formidable barrier. Not high, not perfect, but a testament to what can happen when they’re forced away from their video games.

We had another moment around the fire when we played Act One, a game where you read lines from an old movie while others tried to guess it. The Oldest really got into this one, mimicking accents and changing his voice to read the lines. He had us all laughing like mad.

The other moments were simpler. A found leaf. An ATV ride that the Youngest took with his older cousin. Playing Munchkins (a card game.) Watching the sunset over the mountains.

The last moment, and perhaps my most photogenic, occurred in the car ride back to Vancouver. The boys, exhausted from days of being outside and in the sunlight, fell asleep in the backseat. Normally, when it goes all quiet, (in the house, in the car, in Walmart), I begin to worry. It usually means they’re up to something.

But this time that something was sleeping. Like angels.

It wasn’t something I could have planned (Ok, I could have fed them sleeping pills and then posed them, but I didn’t think of that at the time.) Instead, it was just one of those moments. Nothing that will shatter the world or make you question the meaning of life, but just a snippet in time when I’m reminded what a great second life I’ve been given.