For our first adventure out of the house as a family of two, I loaded up Tristan’s Land Rover with the little guy, 4 plastic shovels, 6 multicolor buckets, all Disney characters dressed as sailors and the tiniest little plastic cart with a handle that falls off every few feet if the load is more than a few ounces. I bravely parked in the best spot. The lot is full yet this spot was available … as it usually is. It’s the closest to the boardwalk, shower and bathroom but it’s also consumed by a huge puddle.
I opened my door, kicked my flipflops over to the far shore of the lake I’m parked in and jumped down. I wade around the back of the car and start piling too many things in to the tiny wagon and try to float it safely to shore before walking around to get Little G. He is still taking the first of two naps and I debate how to accidentally wake him up. Do I tickle or pinch toes? Do I start talking to him like I don’t realize he’s asleep? Before I can decide against other bad ideas, his eyes popped open. I think he knows when some bad parenting decisions are about to go down.
After a second slathering of the toddler’s sunscreen, I retrieved the little plastic cart from under the car where it was bobbing up and down with the waves created as I wrestled Little G back in to his swimsuit. We were finally on our way to the beach.
I convinced the little guy to walk with me and look for seashells. I wanted to take home something special for him from his first trip to the beach. Promising leads ended up being little more than tiny segments of a bigger piece of shell. Finally, I gave up and went ankle deep in to the water to rinse my hands. I bent over and let the waves wash over the tops of my hands. As I turned my hands over, I cupped them together to splash a little water higher up my sandy arms. A perfectly whole sand dollar landed in my palms. I held it for a few moments and knew this was a “hello” from Tristan on our first family trip without him since sand dollars don’t float, they burrow.
My heart feels whole again for a minute as I gather Mickey, Minnie and all their friends, all the shovels and buckets and try to pack the tiny plastic wagon in such a way that it won’t need the handle put back on more than a dozen times on the walk back to the lake.
The moments of feeling whole come to me sometimes when I expect something to break me all over again. I often can’t predict my reaction to something so I just go with it. I feel my way through it instead of trying to push bad feelings down with the hopes that they don’t bubble up again. They always come back up and usually leave a poor salesperson or repairman wondering what to say or looking for a way to leave.
I have experienced other signs that Tristan is with me. The sand dollar was my first and most unexpected message. If I ever wondered if people live on or if I would see or hear my love again, this was my answer. So beautiful.
