My flip flops sunk into the sand frustrating me like a stubborn child. I almost forgot that my surroundings were all but aggravating. With my parents behind me I flung my shoes off and embraced the cooling sand.
The mixture from the glow of the sun and the relief of the breeze warmed my soul and calmed my stress. The sea grass swayed in the salty air as if inspired from the wisps of hair that tickled my skin. The grass was with the sense of independence. It separated from its normal clusters and sea blasted edges, ready to feel the air tingle its sides and take it to places it’s been too scared to venture.
The sand plastered its grains around my legs as I nestled them into its comforting hands, so different from the boulders that marked its past.
My breathing took on the pace of the waves as they glided to my toes and back, my toes and back, my toes and back.
It was as if my eyes took on a shade of orange, as the sun descended into the coral water and painted the world in warmth.
Trying to forget that my mom was at the moment snapping pictures of every flower she could put the lens in front of, and that my dad had slipped on his Jimmy Buffett shirt, I just looked forward seeming separated in distance, but the grin that decorated my face showed a different type of reality. Contrasting from the sun that hid below the water, I didn’t disguise my reality; I embraced what I was given. So I pressed my hands in the shore and lifted my body in order to walk toward the goons wearing beach hats, even though the sun was now long gone. All of the most attractive guys could have walked in my way as I stepped toward my parents, and although I would stutter and glance I would keep walking. I knew that having one less person on this trip meant fewer expenses but it also meant fewer memories, so in comfort for them I blocked out the giggles from the girls in pink bikinis and I popped into the picture my mom was taking, creating rabbit ears behind my dad. Even though I could call her anytime I wanted; occasionally catching voicemail, I could still talk to her, and that I was most thankful for. She was the missing puzzle piece. But I guess I should count my blessings because compared to others I had my whole family, every single part of the puzzle that, when put together creates a picture connected with laughs and outlined with love. All around me it was as if the world; or at least my favorite part of the world, had jumped into my heart and pulled out the things I never knew I loved and never knew I missed.