Concerns and Sandcastles

Teddy placed the red bucket in the sand in front of Charlie. “This is yours, and I have a blue bucket,” he said as if it was a command rather than an observation.

“Teddy, do you think Mommy and Daddy are going to get a divorce?” Charlie said as he scratched lines in the damp sand with a crooked twig.

Teddy stopped digging, a concerned frown grew across his face. “Why would you think that?”

Charlie shrugged without taking his eyes off the sand. “I don’t think they love each other anymore.”

“That’s impossible, of course they love each other,” Teddy snapped.

“No, it’s not impossible! Do you remember when you won that prize?”

“What prize?”

“When we were here last year. You won Mr. Rabbit at the arcade in the claw machine thing. At first, you loved Mr. Rabbit, but after you got a little older, you stopped loving him.”

“That’s not the same. That’s a different kind of love. Like, Mommy and Daddy love us one way. And then they love each other in a different way.”

“So there are other kinds of love?”

“Sure there are,” said Teddy reassuringly. “Don’t worry about it.”

Charlie smiled and started packing his bucket with sand, pressing it down after each spade full.

The ocean gently lapped against the shore, slowly advancing toward the land with each wave. The familiar scent of seaweed and salt permeated the air. A seagull high above kept adjusting its wings against the wind; clear blue skies reflected in its black eyes.

The fortress of sandcastles was coming along nicely, with neatly shaped turrets and embrasures, as if molded and sculpted by an artist, not a six-year-old.

Teddy started to mold the moat with his hands that surrounded the walls.

Teddy watched Charlie draw the lines of windows into the sandcastle. The subtle waves of doubt about his parents began to awaken inside him.

“If mommy and daddy get a divorce,” Charlie said suddenly. “Who will we live with?”

“They're not getting divorced!” snapped Teddy.

Charlie ignored him. “We are half mommy and half daddy. So, if they stop loving each other, that means they stop loving part of us.”

Teddy thought about that; maybe Charlie was right. He had noticed his Dad frequently working late, and they had stopped sitting on the couch together and instead started arguing a little more.

The thought worried him. The questions Charlie had asked were beginning to churn in his young mind. He punched one of the sandcastles, sending lumps of sand into the moat. His Mom and Dad were his whole world, his protectors, his shelter, his guides, his friends, and his life givers.

In the distance, he saw his parents walking across the sand toward him. They walked hand in hand, laughing and talking. His Mom’s blonde hair blow across her smiling face and giant smile, while his Dad swung his hand in hers. They stopped for a moment and looked out over the ocean, then tenderly kissed each other, causing his Mom to stand on her tippy-toes.

The sight suddenly put Teddy at ease as they draw closer, happy with life and with each other's company.

At that moment, he knew they loved each other. Genuine, untainted love.

“Awesome fortress, buddy,” said his Dad.

His Mom knelt down and kissed him on the forehead.

“How about a ride on the bumper cars and then some ice cream?” she said, smiling.

“Yes,” exclaimed Teddy.

“Let’s go then, and don’t forget Charlie.”
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Teddy brushed the sand off his GI Joe doll and ran after his parents.