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This last week we went out to my parents’ cabin for some time at the lake. When my dad took his evening ski, I went with to spot so my mom could focus on driving. As I watched the rooster tail of water flung out against the sunset and felt the chunk, chunk, as he flew across the wake, I realized that this is one of the few things I see my father do simply for pleasure.

What have you witnessed one of your parents do simply for pleasure? What sights and senses do you associate with it? Does pleasure come naturally or with struggle for your parent? Is it the same for you?

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