I have decided that today is so much more than just a Monday. Today is yesterday’s tomorrow; one more day offering another chance to make a difference for someone, anyone. I have no reason to label this day as anything in particular. It simply IS. Whether it is a Monday or a Sunday, it is still a day- one that can be an instrument of inspiration and change.These opportunities are plentiful enough!

A young adult can impact upon more souls than a person in their nineties, who has lived an ordinary, unremarkable existence. How many days and how many chances do we need to leave this world better than we found it? Do we aim for as many as possible, or “just enough?”

I like to write about things in life that bring joy.  Moreover, I love to write about things that saturate our souls to overflowing.  My husband's parents own a quaint cottage on the coast. To describe it to you would be an easy feat; a little house that has housed our hearts for 40 years. Generations of the Andrews family have spent summers at this rejuvenating respite by the sea. 

Some say fate never fails. Bound forever by time, unstoppable, predetermined and non-negotiable, it offers solace when things are out of our own hands. More than anything, it is so comforting to know that fate can intervene, and make possible what otherwise couldn't have worked out more perfectly.

Christa and Darrell met in junior high school in October 1999. Darrell was 12 and Christa, 13. They became steadfast souls, absolutely always there for one another.  Both woven of the same cloth, their friendship refused to fray while those on the fringes of their worlds faded away. They maintained their friendship even after they finished high school, and attended different universities.  After their college graduations, Christa moved to Italy, and Darrell moved to New York City.  Despite living on disconnected continents and separated by an ocean, their deep friendship endured. Strewn lovers fell by the wayside in both of their lives, but like devoted and kindred souls, these two friends remained loyal.

The sound of the tide rolling in then returning to the sea. Tenacious seagulls tossed like papers in the wind, their plaintive calls echoing off the dunes.

In a messy mound of sand sits three pairs of shoes. You can easily see they belong to a mom, dad, and small child. What you can't see is the fourth pair; pink canvas sneakers.

There used to be four. Four pairs of shoes half-buried in the sand. Four beach towels, four folding chairs, and so many memories to make beneath one brightly striped canopy.