Keeping My Promise

In May of 2004, my parents picked up their two college kids after finals and headed for  the Outer Banks. I didn't realize it at the time, perhaps my parents did, but this was our last family vacation as a family unit of mom, dad, laura and john. To me it was a family trip to the beach full of laughs, Uno, hiking, and a looooooooooonng week away from my brand new baby relationship to my future husband. 

After a nightly phone conversation with  my  guy, I hung up feeling refreshed, liked, smitten and  like a big puddle of oooey gooey new love butterfly pudding. I remember feeling the need to be alone, so I walked out to the boardwalk and took stroll on the beach.

All I could think about was Scott. I missed his laugh. I missed his hand holding mine. I missed his smirk. Walking along the beach, alone with my thoughts, and feeling the ocean lap over my feet I realized that I was falling in love. I wanted nothing more than for him to be here with me. I wanted to share all my memories with him.

I walked to the pier and turned back  to meet the rest of my family for dinner. With happy and confident tears streaming down my face  I made a promise. I wanted to bring Scott to the beaches of North Carolina one day. I promised to walk along the shore, hold his hand, and tell him about the moment when I knew that he was the one God had given me.

Seven years later and I'm holding that hand of his. I'm walking slowly and soaking in his laugh, his smirk, and I'm also  gently holding onto the little fingers that belong to  another gift God has blessed me with. This week I'm keeping my promise.