I’m walking on the beach with my dad. We have been walking so long and it is so hot and the waves are so loud that we have stopped talking. All I am is breath in and out as I apply myself to these shifting sands. We pass a bottle of water back and forth, screwing the blue plastic top on and off. I sneak looks at him from the cover of my glasses, out from under the brim of my floppy hat as we keep pace, our long legs rising and falling and rising again. I ache with how much I love him and I say thank you, thank you, thank you, to no one in particular and pass the bottle back to him.
5 comments:
I'm here through Phoenix. Pleased to meet you and to read your wonderful writing. I'll be back for more.
Just the word 'beach' makes me breathe easier. This is a lovely post. You are so fortunate to have a father. Mine died when I was 6 years old and I still miss him even though I'm in my 50's. Thanks for sharing. Blessings!
I am also here via Phoenix, and already I am in in love with your writing..
I miss you and your family. Happy Belated.
Phoenix directed me here and I'm loving your blog. Will be back for more :)
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