Well, we made it home. And as nice as it is to have all the comforts of our nest, we miss the beach a lot too. Why does vacation have to slip through your fingers so quickly?
My men are little still, so I don't really know how much of this trip they will remember. If they are anything like their mama, they will remember bits and pieces... smells, feelings, odd little details.
I'm hoping that they remember the salty taste of the ocean, and the feel of sand between their toes, the great gliding pelicans flying in formation overhead, the sound, the lullaby sound of the waves coming in.
I hope they remember the booming horn of the cruise ship leaving, spotting dolphins in the bay, holding hands while we walked along the seawall, picking out shells and souvenirs at Murdochs, the cries of the laughing gulls. I hope they remember jumping and riding on waves, building sand castles and scavenging the beach for treasures and unexpected delights, like washed up jellies and clamy-things stuck to bottles and boards. I hope they remember how their aunt June taught them to dribble wet sand off their fingertips to build sand mountains, how their mama and Nana bustled around the kitchen making the first tomato pie of the season, and the charcoal smell from Daddy's grill. I hope they remember that when the table was set, and all were gathered 'round, it was Ryder who wanted to say the prayer. His sweet prayers always made us laugh and even brought a few tears... "Thank you God for this beautiful beach and all our many blessin's"