Why don't you lead me to a living end.

E-word,

I was sitting at my desk thinking about the beach, and I suddenly got flooded with memories of the week every summer my family would spend at the beach. I almost feel like I'm there- I can smell the coconut in the suntan lotion, and the salty sea air. I can feel the ocean breeze on my sun-burned shoulders, and hear seagulls crying. My thoughts started turning toward my parents and the fact that they were around my age during my earliest memories of being at the beach, and how now, if and when El and I have children, I cannot avoid being an old dad, and that kind of made me sad.

I remember my dad playing with me in the sea, his arms picking me up and pushing my head above swelling waves. I remember riding waves on inflatable rafts, and getting smashed when the waves crested on the shore. I remember getting stung my jellyfish (and feeling the tentacles of one I was trying to push away from me), and I remember getting pinched by crabs that were crowding the sand bar.

God, those beach vacations were really special to me. We used to surf fish.

Love,

Toe