Kayaking: Paddling Toward Connection
Kayaking was something I loved before and during Carter’s life, but after his death, I couldn’t bring myself to go. Now, with a photo of him in my boat and his spirit in my heart, I paddle toward connection and healing.
7/8/20252 min read
Carter loved being in and on the water, just like his mama. My husband and I started kayaking with him when he was just a baby. As he got older, we bought him his first little kayak, which we’d tie to one of ours while he paddled along. When he finally got his own real kayak, he was thrilled. It was his boat, and he loved the freedom it gave him.
One of our favorite family activities was heading out on a kayak adventure together. A warm day, the beauty of Mother Nature, the calm of the water, the freedom to explore, and time together. What could be better? Even before my son was born, I loved kayaking. It has always been one of my happy places, like the ski mountain.
After Carter died, it became too painful to go. The memories were too raw. The heartbreaking reality that we’d never make new memories on the water together made me want to stay far away. For years, I hung up my paddle.
Over the past three years, I’ve slowly been able to return to the water. At first, my husband practically dragged me out there but little by little, it started to get easier. I placed a picture of Carter in the cockpit of my kayak, and that small act made a huge difference. It helped me feel like he was out there with me, adventuring just like he used to.
Now, I talk to that picture all the time.
Carter! Check out that loon!
Did you see those turtles?
Carter, I love you so much. I love being out here with you.
Over time, I began to notice a shift. My thoughts changed from, this is so sad; Carter isn’t here to I’m holding him so close that I feel him with me.
Kayaking has become one of my special places again, a space where I can be with Carter. I feel fortunate to have rekindled this way to connect with him. What once brought pain now brings peace. It's a quiet, healing, and deeply personal time I get to share with my son. Thank you Carter for reminding me to “live” again.
