Letters To My Sons | August

Dear boys,

We didn't get up to Greenwich Beach this summer as much as we usually do, but when we did we were the time-honored firstcomers. With the sun rising up over the expressway on our way to Connecticut, we arrived just as the local penguin club was finishing their predawn swim. At low tide we have the coastline all to ourselves -- just how we like it  -- the peace and quiet interrupted only by the sound of the Sandboni as it rakes past our cabana. 

The ribbons of sand beneath my feet is a favorite feeling as is watching you guys run free chasing seagulls and combing the shore for crabs. This particular morning Cash, you found the remains of a horseshoe crab and couldn't wait to call us over to take a look. True to your city boy self, you were apprehensive about picking it up at first, but eventually you did and we had a chance to see how the light shone through its shell. 

Grey couldn't wait for the food shack to open up and when it did tore through not one but TWO of his favorite corn dogs before polishing them off with a Spongebob ice-cream bar! Cash, you had your usual chicken fingers and bomb pop before you guys were back to playing in the water.  

When it came time for us to head home Grey, you started sobbing uncontrollably. Now you don't usually do this, but for some reason today you really didn't want to leave, crying all the way to the car and in between sobs blurting out, "I don't want to leave! Why can't we live at the beach?! I don't want to go!!"  We tried to tell you that we'd be going to the Jersey shore for my birthday staying right on the beach for almost a week, but you didn't seem fazed or comforted in the slightest by this; instead you cried yourself to sleep on the drive home.   

These are signs of an exhaustingly fun-filled summer soon coming to an end. But at least we've got a trip to the shore and then Grandma and Pow Pow's later this month before it's all said and done. And to be honest, when we leave from their house, I'll probably be the one sobbing uncontrollably. So with these longer days soon bidding farewell, let's make the most of the time we have with family and each other even if it hurts so terribly to leave. 

My boys, through the tides of your lives both high and low, I promise to love you through it all.

Always and forever, Mom