A little over a month ago, I was patting myself on the back for exercising restraint at not charging into the dicey waters of Banderas Bay in Mexico. “Until next time,” I said.
“Next time” came, and that restraint was long gone when I charged into the water to play in the sizable waves.
I wasn’t far from a father and son who were thoroughly enjoying themselves, and for the first time in forever, I flashed back to Sea Gull Beach on Cape Cod. Back to the sixties.
“Throw me higher!” That’s what my brothers and I would demand of our Dad when we were in the water. He would pick us up, and throw us as high as he could into the gentle waves as they rolled in.
I wanted to tell the father and son to enjoy the moments like they were having because they seem to end so soon. But that would have been presumptuous and unnecessary. They were having a ball.
I was lost in the memory and the moment, when a big breaker rolled in. (To be continued.)