I was so sure that it would be the last time I ever visited Corpus Christi, Texas when I went in April for my Grandmother Thompson’s funeral.

I took Mary Alice and Riley with me, to show them one of the cities I love in this great world. We flew into Houston. Riley drove down with Mom and Dad and I drove with my brother, BJ, and Mary Alice. They were so kind to me all weekend, trying to be sure we were able to visit everywhere I was hoping to show the littles.

We spent the morning on Mustang Island. It was grey and humid and there wasn’t a soul in sight. It was perfect for what I thought was a hello and goodbye. My heart didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. Everything seemed just a little dream like.

Mary Alice loved her first trip. She was so brave and would squeal whenever a wave got close. She loved the feeling of the sand in her fingers and toes and cried when we left. Her curls were so darling in the Texas humidity. She had little ringlets show up at the back of her neck. Daddy told me how much she looked like me, and I couldn’t have felt more beautiful.

I thought about walking the beach at sunrise with Grandpa Thompson, when we came across a car that was stuck in the dunes. He was in his eighties at the time, but looked like a twenty year old, as he ran down to the beach and grabbed some driftwood. We stuck the driftwood under the two back tires and began to slowly rock the car back and forth. Once the tires covered the driftwood, he told them to floor it. I was so proud. That was my grandpa.

Riley could have stood there all day. I worried about his fair skin and kept slathering him in lotion. Poor thing. I was THAT mom. He kept wiggling his toes and making a little hole to stand strong against the waves. He was a natural.

I thought about my grandmother painting sand dollars gold and hanging them from a chain to sell in the mall at Christmastime.

We found a sand dollar that day. I have walked that beach ten million times, searching for a whole sand dollar. I’d find broken ones and crack  them open and gently hold the doves inside. But we found one! I couldn’t believe it. A few minutes later, Riley yelled, “mom, that seagull just stole your money!” I couldn’t figure out what he was talking about, but the seagull had carried off our bucket with my sand dollar inside. I laughed so hard. I’d never thought about why we call it a dollar, or that Riley would have thought it was actual money. Sweet boy.

We ate at mom and dad’s favorite place and Riley watched the barges come and go. Knowing that he will have shared memories of Corpus Christi made everything ok. Little did I know that a sweet wedding invitation from my cousin was already in the mail, inviting me back to Corpus Christi.