During a morning beach run, I noticed a woman knee deep in the sand building a spectacular sandcastle for her children.
They are everywhere, these amazing mothers.
In the water, thrashing through treacherous waves. On the sand, playfully being buried head to toe. In the playground, dutifully pushing swings.
And I am not one of them.
I am sitting on a beach chair, eyeing my daughter as she eagerly runs towards the shore. Reading a book, while she buries my feet in the sand. On the boardwalk, watching her climb up the slide.
I am not that amazing mother, knee deep in the sand with shovel in hand. I gaze from a distance, in complete amazement, with total gratitude, and shoulders deep at peace with who I am.
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