Sometimes Arthur sees me and yells “Nana!” in the way some people might say “ice cream!” and others say “shoe sale!” No one else has sounded that happy to see me in many many years.
- Anna Quindlen
We take a snack and head down to the bay for a couple of hours. He digs in the sand, does his best to throw rocks in the waves, laughs at the seagulls and feels brave as he peeks through the slats on the bridge. He spots a crow, a few tiny crabs, a big cargo ship (he is sure is full of dinosaurs), and several dogs, all of whom he calls Bob. I try my best to get a few shots of him, but finally tuck my camera away and give him my whole attention, admitting to myself we both have more fun when I am fully present.
The weather is perfect, the constant rain we have had over the past several weeks has let up and it finally feels like we might be heading into summer. We sit on a bench and eat the strawberries we brought with us and watch the people. The playground is full of children and he watches with interest but is not ready yet to mingle among them. He sits, his small fingers stained red from the strawberries, not missing a thing as he kicks his feet back and forth. We talk about the rock he has in his pocket and all we have seen. I ask if he is ready to go home and he says yea. Gamps scoops him up and puts him in his carseat and I buckle him in. He talks all the way home, telling me over and over that we had fun at the beach today and I agree wholeheartedly, knowing enough to hold on to these memories with all my might, as time is flying by way too fast.