Clinging to the Dock

I

Southern live oaks are majestic trees that are emblems of the South. Given enough room to grow, their sweeping limbs plunge outward and upward creating an impressive array of branches. Through decades, the branches naturally grow over, under, around and through one another, creating intricate patterns, and when dripping with native Spanish moss, an almost mysterious aura is created. We take one last leisurely drive around the island and the ancient trees remind me of a poem we found between the pages of a book in Mother's handwriting after her death:

"The bonds that unite families and friends are not forged for a little while, they are for eternity. They stretch across every boundary of space and time. They twine and intertwine from one generation to another, weave and interweave, priceless beyond measure. They are something to be cherished, to be fought for, and to be kept in tact at all cost."

~ Catherine Marshall

 We, too, have treasured the simple joy of being together. One more piggy-back ride. One more stack of books. One more craft project. One more glorious day on the beach. And one more evening peek into the fridge (this nephew has learned well from his uncles the art of refrigerator surveillance ).

Remember 

Summers at the beach.

Chasing gulls

Just out of reach.

Clouds of animals

Passing by, 

Tracing figures in the sky.

It seems like such a painful crime

To leave

One's childhod summertime.

PS And lest this reverie sound too idyllic, we must add here, that the guys grabbed the skim boards for one last ride at high tide after dinner tonight on our final evening. A trip to the ER followed. The shattered wrist is sporting a huge splint and surgery will be scheduled for one day next week. Stay tuned for more family adventures.