My mother had never seen the ocean until she was about 74 years old. After my dad died, she visited me in Virginia, North Carolina, and Florida. We went to the beach every chance we had. Even when it was really too cool for a day at the beach, we bundled up and went anyway. We walked, picked up seashells, and ate picnic lunches on the beach. In North Carolina, we packed a dozen shoeboxes with shells she had picked up, and she took them all home with her. She was so much fun in those years. I had never realized it could be so much fun being with my mother. Even then, we know now, she had Alzheimer's. She had stopped writing letters a few years back, saying she didn't have my dad to spell for her anymore. The Christmas she spent with me in North Carolina in 1990, she asked me to write Christmas cards and letters for her. We shivered on the beach on an overcast October day, and a couple of months later, we drank hot tea as we watched snow falling on a rare white Christmas in eastern North Carolina. I'm so glad I have all thes memories to treasure.

Copyright © 1997-2005 Brenda S. Parris