A Day I Want to Lock Into My Memory

Sunday, January 22nd, 2012

Memory is a child walking along a seashore.  You never can tell what small pebble it will pick up and store away among its treasured things.  ~Pierce Harris, Atlanta Journal

Today was very foggy. The weather report said that the fog would lift by 9am but would linger near the Gulf. It lingered!

Earlier in the week we had chosen a church to attend this morning that is closer to where we are staying but then someone invited us to attend their church so we went their’s instead. We’re glad it worked out that way as we very much enjoyed First Baptist Church of Foley, Alabama. The Akins, a southern gospel group, was there to lead the service. We had never heard of them before but enjoyed the service very much.

After we ate, we headed for the beach. By this time it was very foggy. We watched a couple of men fish for awhile but as the fog thickened and they couldn’t see where their lines were cast, they packed up and left. We took several walks on the beach going only until we could barely see our big bag of towels, books and water. The gap between us kept closing up and we walked less and less distance each time. Jenna and I didn’t go into the water but sat on the beach reading but you would have never known it. It wasn’t long before our hair was dripping wet from all the moisture in the air.

As a mom, this was the perfect day. There’s nothing like watching your children thoroughly enjoy themselves with a real sense reckless abandon. Mom and Dad were watching and doing any worrying that was necessary. Mikayla and Eva ran along the shore and into the waves the entire time we were there. All three girls collected shells as we walked and we all marveled over the largest jellyfish we have seen yet. We stopped and talked awhile to a women who was walking along the beach about some dolphins she had seen just a little earlier. They had been very close to the shore. We laughed over and over at the comical little sandpipers that so diligently searched for food along the shore. It was fun to not have anything to do other than being together.

Finally, the fog grew so thick that we decided we should go home. We had a street to cross and we knew that visibility was very low. It was very strange crossing when you could hear the cars but not see them until they were very close. I think we all gave a sigh of relief when we reached the other side. We could still hear the ocean even though we couldn’t see it. This mom, however, has the day locked into permanently into her memory!

A happy childhood can’t be cured.  Mine’ll hang around my neck like a rainbow, that’s all, instead of a noose.  ~Hortense Calisher


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