PEI Post Mortem: Life's a Beach

We'd been talking about it for weeks. It was pretty much the whole reason for the trip. The Boy was so excited that he could barely contain himself.

The Beach.

Tuesday afternoon, after a much-needed nap, we took off for the beach. One the big selling points of this cottage was that the dunes were just a five minute walk away. The Boy was jumping up and down with eagerness. We crested the dunes, walked down the stairs, took our our shoes. And the Boy sat down. And would go no further.

"Don't you want to play in the sand?" I exclaimed.

"No, I'll just sit here."

I think he was overwhelmed. I wouldn't call the Boy timid, but he can be somewhat reticent in unfamiliar situations. I prefer to describe him as "a thinker". He calmly weighs all the options and then decides that it's ok to participate.

As anticipated, not long after, he took off.

When he got to the ocean, he stopped again. Unsure.

And then he took the plunge.

"Let's catch the waves, Mummy!!" he shouted as the ocean licked our toes. When the water became more bold, he'd scream: "Let's get outta here!!"

He loved the feeling of the 'icky, sticky mud' between his toes. He flung mudballs into puddles. He had a ball. We had to drag him kicking and screaming when it was time for dinner, promising to come back tomorrow.

And where was the Little Guy in all this?

Eating sand, of course. (But don't worry, his beach adventure is a story for another day..)

I've never seen the Boy like this before - fearless, free. His only boundaries were ocean and dune. He was like a completely different person. Every single penny spent, and every single stress was worth it for the look of pure joy on his face. I wish I had the words to explain how my heart wanted to beat outside my chest in jubilant abandon. It was one of those moments that happen when I feel fully alive: heart, mind, body and soul. It's a feeling that no camera will ever capture to my satisfaction. But I will keep it in my heart, and take it with me every day.

I feel echoes of it sometimes when I look at this, though:

Listen. Can you hear my heart smile?