Thirty something years later picking shells

I honestly don't remember how old I was the last time I went to Galveston. I remember all my sisters were there, two still in diapers. When we were younger our family along with my Godmother's family went to Galveston. Spent a weekend there. I remember us parking on the sand and waking up to the sound of the water in the morning. One memory I always carry with me was when me and my sister Monica walked up and down the shore line picking up shells and putting them in our buckets. We both filled the buckets half way. We put them beside our car that day as we were about to eat what both our families had cooked. We used to do a lot with my Godmother and her family. Our families became close but as the years grew old we started to drift apart. I wonder if they still remember stories like this one. The next morning when me and my sister went to check on our shells we both grabbed our buckets and as we started to walk away with them we began screaming and immediately threw the buckets on the ground. Small like creatures were coming out of the shells. Yeah those buckets never made it home.

The love of my life

My sister Pati now with her own family invited me to tag a long on their Galveston trip. I enjoy the beach life and spending time with them so I said yes. We went for the weekend. Got all the sun rays we could possibly get. Enjoying the beach life. So many years had passed since I've set foot on these sands. I'd say close to thirty years. My sister Pati is mother to my Godchild. I love all my little ones but this one has a special place in my heart. I'm forever thankful the day I became a Godmother. It was her turn now, she at the age of three was walking down the shoreline with her father picking up shells and putting them in a bucket. Something so simple yet beautiful too see. Her tiny self wearing her little one piece bending down to pick up the shells turning to her father to show and give them to him to carry. When my sister invited me I took it as a small getaway. But this moment in time meant so much more to me than she will ever know. I was here with my father thirty something years ago picking shells down the shore with my Godmother. Thirty some years in the future I would have never thought I'd be looking at my goddaughter doing the same thing in the same place. I had my godmother and now she had hers. We relived the same story. The same experience.

Galveston 

I began to think of how many memories I'd miss because I didn't take the time to just let my mind wonder. I'll never forget this small getaway. The time I spent with my goddaughter. When we arrived she didn't want me to come home. She loved me that day. She doesn't know how much I love her.

One story I'll tell them when they are older is when her and her brother wanted to see my belly button. Belly button you ask? My little nephew was drawing himself on paper to kill some time on the road. He then drew me on paper. I of course had a bigger belly button than him. At that moment he realized he had never seen if I had a belly button. He insisted to see if in fact I had one. I said to both curious minds that I'd show them later. Well as soon as we made a stop it was show time. I was sitting down when they both approached me. You should have seen a three little girl with her six year old brother both squatting down to see my belly button. The excitement to have proved I had one after all.

The exciting life that is my life. Weirdly odd but I love it. I couldn't have it be a boring one.

Just live the most smallest of experiences, for those are what matter in the end.