|Sunday at the beach, Boca Chica|
|Our neighbors at ZarPar Marina, Boca Chica|
|Children playing on boats|
|This little guy wants nothing to do with the water.|
|The sand-covered girl is laughing|
|Learning how to make and fly a kite|
Today strong memories surged in me, of playing with them. And of teaching them about things that interested them. Sometimes riding in the car it was, “tell me about the time before there were white men here.” Or, “tell me about when you were little on the farm.” Their curious minds soaked up my stories. I remember that I enjoyed that. But in retrospect, that time in my life was absolutely glorious! If only I’d known then.
|Every Sunday is like a big festival at the beach, Boca Chico, Dominican Republic|
This cruising life wasn’t an option for us when my children were small. We were in a different boat. And I know that sometimes, maybe even quite often, in the hustle of daily life back then, I didn’t appreciate the “boat” that we were in together. Nevertheless, they grew up well-adjusted and thrived. Well, for a little while today, I revisited those days of curiosity and exploration. And I enjoyed watching these children that live on sailboats. The wish that I were young again faded away. And I returned to the present day gray-haired woman that I am, sewing under the gazebo.