Beach Words

My grandson and I walked to the beach tonight to see the moonlight on the water. We watched the lights of a ship, the stars, the city lights in the distance. He is eleven and was unusually quiet as we listened to the waves breaking. Another monster hurricane was churning out in the dark gulf waters on a path away from us, toward people who were fleeing its path—an eerie feeling from our serene spot.

Walking back to our cottage, I said, “Pierce?”

He said, “Yeah?”

I said, “I love you.”

He answered, “I love you, too, Meme.”

I told him, “For the rest of your life, when you visit a beach, remember that your grandmother told you she loved you on a beach one night when you were eleven. I will always love you, even when I’m gone.”

He said, “I will, Meme.”

He would’ve been thrilled with a new gaming PC, athletic shoes, or an expensive soccer ball. But I gave him words which will last his lifetime. It made my heart burn to think of this little man who would grow old without my physical presence, but I’d be in his heart. Our connection to others is precious.

Pass with peace, Mae