When I think of home, I see the beach. I dream of the walk from my grandmother’s house down to the sand. I hear the sound of cars driving over the Chesapeake bay bridge. I see my girls as infants sitting in the sand and putting their feet in the water for the first time. I picture my locals’ beach, where kids run together, where people share as neighbors their shovels, buckets, drinks, and snacks.
When I go home, I go to the beach. It doesn’t matter the month or the weather. It calls me and draws me to it. It is a beach like no other. It belongs to my family. When I see my girls running and playing there, I imagine maybe one day it will call to them too. I hope it will draw us together from anywhere back to our home.