Our summer vacation started with a sunset.
The girls and I raced up north last night after our FRG meeting to be near the water and watch the sun dip behind the mountains. We tossed out a big comfy quilt in the grass, ate sandwiches and Munchies, and enjoyed the quiet and beauty of the park.
I find it sort of funny that when we are home for dinnertime, TV blaring, we eat and watch and the noise is all there is, but at the park in the still and quiet, we talked … about the girls’ last days of school and the things they would miss as they each move to a new school next year. Quiet fears and silly moments came out to the rhythm of the whooshing of the tide. Sydney howled at the waxing moon.
They talked; I listened. I think the water of the Sound, even if it isn’t the open ocean, has an ocean-like influence on me. I was calm and patient. It was lovely. We ebbed and flowed until the sun went down.
It got chilly pretty quickly, and our jackets and sweaters weren’t enough to cover our bare legs. We huddled together on one side of our picnic blanket and pull the other over us. It was summertime magic.
Soon it got just too chilly for us so we packed up and headed back to the truck. Alli and I walked hand in hand. She had wanted to play in the ocean, and with a three-year-old girl’s stubbornness, she refused to believe that this water was far too cold to swim in. Luckily, the magic continued, and she was content to just stare into the water for a bit.
And then this happened …
Alli: “Is that water moving?
Alli: “Where is that water going?”
Me: “It’s going out to the ocean.”
Alli: “MY DADDY’S IN THE OCEAN!”
Me: “Yep. He sure he is.”
Alli: “I miss my daddy …”
Me: *bracing for tears* “I miss him, too, but you know what? Someday that water? It’s going to bring Daddy back home to us!”
Alli: “Oh … then I like that water.”