Our time with our older children at home is quickly fleeting.  I admit that sometimes that fact is buried under the busyness of having little children, preparing sermons, surviving the annoyances of eastern europe.

Those things do not change that fact though.

Friday afternoon was just another Friday afternoon.  I had a hundred things, it seemed, that I needed to get done.  Sermons, visits, prayer letter, book I’m finishing up, logistics for our upcoming trip to America…the list goes on.

As I do with all of our children at least once a month, I had the afternoon designated for Rocco.  It is not a time where I drag them around giving attention to everyone else, nor a time where they can interject sentences in between my phone calls.  It is our time to be together, even if we only say three words.

He said, “Dad, why don’t we go to Starbucks and get Mom a coffee?”  I am not necessarily a fan of Starbucks and their exorbitant prices, average coffee, liberal politics, and support of suspect organizations.  Rocco knows that, but he was hoping to show Mom we think she is special.

Starbucks is an hour and a half away.

So we hopped in my 2001 Alfa Romeo GTV and hit the road.

We talked from time to time.  About his bike he is trying to sell on Bulgaria’s version of ebay.  We talked about pulling the car to the shop the previous day with our friend’s car and a six-foot rope.  We talked about America.

We took a selfie at Starbucks and sent it to Mom – a symbol of our chivalry.  We watched parkour videos.  We talked about pushups.  We bought Mom a large Vanilla Bean Latte for $3.75.

I let him drive around the parking lot and out onto the main road.  Then we switched spots and headed home.  An hour and a half later we pulled into the yard.

It was just another afternoon.  We accomplished no tangible goal.  All the things I needed to do before leaving were still needing to be done that evening at dinner.  We walked back into the noise of life from our relatively quiet four hours together.

He will be gone soon.  I don’t throw him in the air anymore.  He doesn’t ride on my shoulders anymore.  One of these afternoons, it will be our last afternoon together.

I will still be busy after he is gone.  I will still have a hundred things to do.  Those things will always be pressing me.

Charles Francis Adams, the son of John Quincy Adams, was a senator and eventually ambassador to England.  After taking a day to go fishing with the fourth of his seven children, Henry, he wrote in his journal:  “Went fishing today, a day wasted.”

Henry, as his father had taught him and his siblings, also wrote in his journal that day:  “Went fishing with my father today, the most glorious day of my life.”

Yeah, it was just another Friday afternoon.  One less afternoon that I will be able to spend with Rocco.

A gloriously wasted afternoon.