One day last week I had a brief moment where I just had my big three. School had just been completed and we were desperate to work out some wiggles. It was an incredibly hot day, the air was thick and muggy making it almost difficult to breathe. Naturally we headed to the pond to swim.
As we ran down our beach, heading for that blissfully cool water, the sand scorching our toes- the air shifted. There was something special, surrounding us.
We played and sang love songs. We built sand channels for G.I. Joes and dug for buried treasures like the buccaneers we pretended to be. Then we swam out and dove down coming up with handfuls of thick red Arkansas clay which we promptly plonked down on the shore to mold and shape pots, pans and candlestick holders.
Sandwiched inbetween our artistic endeavors, we giggled as we chatted about life and growing up. Without knowing it or planning for it, the day became magic. One I hope to remember for all times.
As we drove back to the house, windows down and the hot air rushing past us, a tear trickled down my cheek. A mixture of abandoned joy combined with a feeling of loss for how quickly it all goes by, and I was completely overtaken with love.