The very first day we got him, we put Cooper in the car and drove directly to Justin’s parents place near Watch Hill. I held him on my shoulder and we walked past seashore shops lining the street, selling things like starfish and saltwater taffy. We meandered on down to the carousel house and the ice cream shops, where about a hundred small children fell in love with him instantly.
I understood the feeling.
He had only been in our lives about three hours at that point, but still I knew that life would never be the same again. We bought almond joy ice cream and sat out on the sea wall, watching silver light fall on the crisp white cloth of sailboats bobbing in the water. The warmth of August, that somehow seemed to rise from the ground up, sent streaks of vanilla racing down my arm to a golden fluff ball waiting below. And when the ice cream was gone and the sun was fading fast, he fell asleep on right on my lap, tongue out, too tired to keep his eyes open.
And in that moment, I wasn’t sure if it was the ice cream or my heart that had melted faster.
Two days ago, as we went to pick Cooper up from Justin’s parents place, we swung by Watch Hill again. Again we walked past sea shore shops and bought almond joy ice cream. And once again about a hundred children fell in love with him instantly.
As we sat out on a sea wall with silver light fading fast, I smiled at the memory. And I smiled at the happiness of right now.
And in my heart I was so grateful for how life has a way of bringing us back around.