We were all eager to be out on the sand.

And you would have been right there with us, voice booming – excited about being at the ocean and finding a little peace among kindred hearts.

But it was just us, because we’re still here…and you’re over there.

It’s quiet with you not around.

I don’t mean that in a bad way.

It’s definitely meant in a “Man, I sure wish he was around. I miss his laugh some kind of fierce…” kind of way.

Sure. You would talk over others, fighting for your space in the conversation and we would all roll our eyes…but mostly because we wish you didn’t feel like you had to fight for a space. You had a space with us – you didn’t have to fight for it.

All the vehicles were lined up, trunks to the sea, and it was a mighty fine sight.

You would have loved it!

I did my thing.
The thing you would do too.

Before getting comfortable, camera in hand, snapping pictures.

You were heavy on my mind as I backed up away from the cars to see the sand and the sky and the sea.

I breathed in a prayer of thanks for the opportunity to know you; said hi, as I told you I would when visiting the ocean.

And I looked over to my left…

And there you were!

Man alive, there you were…an orange Jeep making its way down the beach towards us.

I was speechless.

Tried to take a video…fumbled the damn phone like I had butterfingers, failed at the opportunity to record the vehicle passing by…and I am sure there was a reason for that…but I could kick myself. Those are basic skills in my profession, and it was a total bust!

But it was you, I know it for true.

Just passing by, saying hi.

Don’t know if anyone else in the group saw.

Knowing them, thoughts of you were shiny and bright, and close to their hearts…

We haven’t forgotten you, silly goose.

But for me, I know you were checking in…

I guess we’re doing okay. Making the best of our stories. Trying to live right.

Getting sandy and salty.

Still thinking of you and missing you too.