I had the very best time going to the beach this week. I think it was my favorite adventure yet. It involved so many things I love. Gross Gas Station food, the beach, an impulsive and quick trip, and shells…lots of shells.
My grandparents visited this week on the way to and from Florida (our house is a nice halfway point to spend the night) and my grandmother was quick to remind me of my childhood love of rocks and shells. I loved carefully and tenderly collecting all different types–cataloging them like a mini-scientist. My tastes were not discriminating…I would grab a sparkly rock from the mall parking lot just as readily as a perfectly formed and preserved conch shell on the beach.
But, the truth is–you can't collect them all. There are more shells on the beach at any given moment than you can grab…and there are new ones being washed up with each incoming wave. This is kind of like the sweet moments in life. You try and catch them in your mind's eye. You try and put them down on paper or make a lasting imprint in your conscious. But, you can't collect them all. The moments of life are so vast and numerous, it would be impossible to remember each and every one. However, I think that makes the memories we do make all the more sweet. They are a carefully curated collection…made more precious by their scarcity.
My moments at the beach this week were among my favorites with my children, thus far. I am so blessed to have photographs and a jar full of shells to commemorate those magical feelings that permeated our short beach trip on Tuesday. I can't wait to tell them about that trip someday. That's part of the magic of parenthood–the holding close the memories that they can't possibly remember for themselves.