
Santa Monica, California.
A couple of days ago.

It was in the 60′s.
I somehow forgot to pack swimming suits.
We went to the beach regardless.

There were names to be drawn in the sand.
Pails to be filled.
Pails to be washed out to sea.

The Pier I so wanted to take the kids to.
Got pretty pictures of the famed Ferris Wheel.
Good enough.

If you could have only heard the belly laughs coming out of the kids.
The daring actions of getting right up into the surf and then running as fast as they could to safety.
The joy.
The joy made the entire trip worth it.

Wet faces. Sand everywhere.
Eventually he lost the clothes.
And, then asked for a surf board.
“Mom, I wanna catch some waves!”
When we looked at the pictures together this morning, I said, “Caeden looks like you felt so cold!”
Caeden replied, “No, Mom. It looks like I was FEELING happy!”

Grandpa. Grandma. Nikki. John.
And Wayne.
Wayne was there to see the kids in the sand.
To see them running as fast as they could to the water.
He felt the warmth of sunshine on his face.

He heard the giggles.
The shreaking.
The joy.
Wayne …
You made it, Darling.
(Up tomorrow: Claire Bear and Family)
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