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Salty Memories

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We drove back to Memphis this weekend with a gallon of seashells, a smattering of freckles and a million salty memories. Lydia, I’ll remember you with your little pink floatie around your waist saying, “Let’s get in the waves!” over and over. I’ll remember you boogie-boarding for the first time and all the bowls of homemade ice cream you enjoyed. Charlotte, I’ll remember your blonde curls curlier than ever thanks to the ocean’s humidity and your fearless attempts to go swimming “on your own.” Matt, I’ll remember our little walk to dinner for date night and seeing the “Hot Now” sign on at Krispy Kreme which we couldn’t resist. I’ll remember Gracie and Kayla and Carlie painting our girls’ toenails and our searches for spiral seashells. I’ll remember the boiled shrimp and fried calamari Pops cooked for us and Didi’s blueberry pie with four candles in it for Lyd to blow out. I’ll remember thinking a million times thank you, God, for these salty memories with my favorites.

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