Making Memories

The boys frolic in the surf.
Two for each of us,
Remarkably close in age.
They stomp waves and chase boats
And marvel at the dead fish being washed ashore.
We lounge on striped towels, a memory or two floating between us,
Flitting like the stutter steps of the two year olds
Chasing seagulls down the beach.

Time plays its tricks, and it wasn’t so long ago
That it was us playing at the water’s edge.
Joined by her brothers and my sisters,
We built castles and threw Frisbees and
Scavenged for candy our parents hid in trees.

But now we are the Mommies,
Packing sunscreen and snacks and shovels
For a day in the sun.
And I’m not quite sure how this happened.
Time spins so quickly and waves wash so much away.
But these beach days remain with us and
Draw us back with our sons.

We return to make the memories for them
That we hold so dear.
Hunting shells, digging sand, body surfing in the waves.
Now our recollections blend together like the
White froth of surf meeting beach,
As we leave our imprint again in the sand.