beach
I'm sitting across from her eating chips and salsa on a paddleboard on a lake. We are also eating a smore's desert from the night before. We down water from water bottles because the desert is very sweet.
We are playing an animal game where one person thinks of an animal and the other person guesses. Sometimes a boat passes by and the water turns into smooth little waves, and we ride them out by leaning into the rise and fall. We laugh as the bigger ones come, it's a small thrill.
We are laying on beach towels under the warm sun listening to our favorite songs and I've even remembered to keep putting on sunblock for us both.
We are sitting in red folding chairs (her favorite color) with the legs of the chairs sunk into the wet sand as the water washes over our feet. We are painting the view of the lakes and the mountains beyond.
She's standing next to me and she looks up and says, "I got my beach." Tears threaten to spill over the rims of my eyes because we are hugging. I asked her months ago what kind of vacation she wanted and she'd said a beach, and I fought so hard to give her that beach.
We are snuggled up in the car at night with a special SUV mattress under us and the sleeping bags are fluffy surrounding us. The fan above hums quietly and she's asleep.
I feel it, after everything that's happened, I feel happy.