Years ago, long before the boys arrived on the scene, the temperatures hit the high sixties on a weekend in February. Jeremy and I had a different sort of life then, and the weather inspired us to hightail it to a bed and breakfast in Cape May where we spent the weekend walking and eating and laying around in the sand. It was one of those weekends that you hold on to forever, one of those memories that you can feel and smell.
This past weekend we weren’t able to run off to a romantic locale. No, that’s not right at all. We actually did. We ran off to our favorite local places, the reservoir and the beach. We splashed in puddles, played on a new pirate playground, and leapt off of sand mountains. It was the first time Wes sat in the sand, letting it run through his fingers. And he didn’t eat any of it.
This was one of those weekends in February that I will remember. I will remember how the sun felt and how the melting snow and the sea smelled. On both days, the boys thanked us in that precious, innocent way that 4 year olds have. Thanks for taking us on a hike. Thanks for taking us to the beach.
And I wanted to say back, Thanks for teaching me that joy is its own sort of romance. And we found some today.
