I'd been meaning to email this a while ago, but just never did. So I'll post it here...I got back from Grama's funeral late Friday night. On Saturday, we went to the beach as part of our day of just running errands. We were getting some cupcakes at a place in Manhattan Beach, and it was just a couple of blocks from the sand. So we decided to walk down to the beach, toss off our kicks, roll up pants and try and stay as dry as a 2 and a six year old can playing in the water.
Now, I've always equated sand dollars with Florida--Grama, Aunt Kathy, Dylan and Scotty in particular. I guess because of the wall decorations, and all those sand dollars that Dylan, Scotty and I found all those years ago.
On our last trip to Florida (ironically), one of the hotel activities was to paint a sand dollar, which Lex and I did. Ever since then, Lex has been fascinated with sand dollars. He kept asking where we could find them and I kept telling him, I don't think we have them in California. I think they're primarily in Florida.
So as we're playing in the ocean, Janice looked down, and lo and behold, there was a sand dollar in the sand. In the California sand that never has sand dollars. To me, it was Grama's version of Noah's rainbow. A wink that she's
alright. I don't think that a cold, dead sand dollar has ever made a little boy more elated and warmed and lightened the heart of a grieving grandson.
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