What was once seemed completely permanent has long since been swept away. Pushed out to white-capped depths by summers that felt so busy but whose importance I can’t quite recall. Through all of that life it took too long, but now we are back.

Not all of us, though. Parents left first and then grandparents; not the way things were supposed to go. Through all the fun runs a somber thread. Our time together will can’t help but be a sort of memorial service, informally at least. This one, though, is more formal. There are ashes to scatter and hugs to give and things we don’t quite know how to say. I think we do admirably and anyway there is no one here to notice but the waves and sun who must remember us when this was only a joyous place.

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