Yesterday was a good day. I say yesterday in the strictly calendar sense of the word because the clock creeps toward 4am and I have yet to sleep. So, yeah, today or yesterday. The choice is yours.
It was Father’s Day. I was with my son under the sun at the beach. I needed this day. A day to relax and reflect and simply enjoy the sheer state of existence. My life has been difficult in recent years, marked by hardship and marred by heartbreak. But this day was balm on those wounds.
I swam with my boy.
Let’s call him Dean.
Dean is an energetic, mischievous and intelligent toddler with sapphire eyes and a personality so innocent and beautiful that strangers routinely smile and stare.
I tossed him into the air, we wadded into the water. He laughed, he smiled. He confided would be secrets to his dad, joyfully revealing that his grandmother had earlier treated him to a fast-food restaurant. We both laughed. I kissed his cheek and snuggled him to my chest.
Dean is precious.
Dean is my redemption.
We found a rock in the sand beneath the water. I held it aloft and examined it under the sunlight. I ran my fingers across the contours and admired the streaks of color it held. I wondered how far that rock had traveled, what places had it seen?
I handed the rock to Dean. He smiled and then casually threw it back into the water without a second thought. There was a small splash which caused Dean to giggle, an infectious grin spread across his face all the way to his bright eyes. I think now that Dean had the right idea. It didn’t matter how that rock had come to be only that it existed at all.
The fact that it made a funny sound as it sunk was a delightful bonus.