The thing about trains …

We spent Saturday morning at our downtown park, featuring 350 acres of walking trails, canoeing, public gardens, sports facilities and so much more, including a miniature ride-on train, which was our target this day.

The train is always a highlight - whether you’re with kids or not. There’s something about it that gives you a warm, nostalgic feeling and inspires you to smile and wave hello to everyone you pass and vice versa.

As we pulled out of the station - Chad and Nye sitting in front of Cal and me - I thought about the number of times we’ve ridden the train (only a handful) and the number of times we have left before the boys will decide they are too big. Too few, I’m certain.

I soaked it up: Cal resting his chin on his arm, leaning over the side with the breeze blowing through his hair. He seemed to be deep in his own thoughts or maybe he was soaking it in too. Chad was enthusiastically pointing out some of our everyday sights from the vantage point of the train: the swans, the trail where we run with the boys loaded in the jogger, daddy’s office, the familiar bridge, the brick with our name engraved on it, the guitar player -- a fixture in the park -- who knows us and played especially for us as the train rolled by. Nye vacillated from serious to silly and was full of questions we couldn’t - or didn’t have the energy - to answer.

As I took it all in, I realized I was crying tears of both joy and sorrow (OK, so I’m hyper sentimental). I was happy that we were completely focused on the train ride and being together in the moment without cell phones or to-do lists, but sad that the moment would end - and not just the “moment” but this era. How long do we have before the boys are too grown up to ride the train? How long before the boys have their own commitments to school and sports and friends outside of our little family unit?

There are so many moments I’ve wanted to capture and tuck away for a day in the future when the boys won’t want to sit on my lap and when mommy won’t be able to soothe their hurt. I think the camera toting and the blogging are an attempt to preserve these moments so on that day, not so far in the future, I can dust off a tangible connection and savor these moments once more.