Footprints and the gift

Travel log — the beach

Some things never change even as children grow up and grammas grow old.  The beach – freedom, adventure, wild things.  Magic.  The wind breathes it and the surf echoes – magic.

I have been drenched in magic. I have sand in my shoes and a smile on my face – life is good. I have been reminded that memories are best when they are re-lived out loud and that making new ones only adds to the flavor of the old. 

The tides tickle the shoreline, seashells are reorganized and restocked as the sand is smoothed. Footprints made are dissolved only to be made again – renewed and remembered.  There is a hush at the beach, a whispered secret — footprints may be erased but they are never truly gone.  If you look closer you will discover they were imprinted on your heart and you can take them with you.

I was afraid that re-visiting a place where we made so many memories would set me back, make me sad and be too much.  And it did, for a minute.  But remembering and sharing those memories began to enhance the ones we were making, making them even more special.  This beautiful coast is the perfect place to revisit the past and glimpse the future.  The gift is in the moment and in the foreverness of the memory it is making.