Sandcastles

Memories aren’t supposed to disappear, scars don’t either. They simply fade. They fade but they will always be there. I’m driving my wife and son to the beach, our first family trip since my son was a baby. It's been 3 years since then, and we’ve had some free time. I glance to my right and see my wife sleeping soundly beside me. My gaze turns to my rear view and my eyes fall upon my sleeping son. His beautiful blonde hair reflecting the setting sun. My stomach twists up at the sight of him. His hair, it’s so pure compared to mine. My hair is the same colour as his, except with splotches of red stained by blood from my younger years. I didn’t exactly have the nicest childhood. My own father would be beat me over the head with his beer bottle so frequently, that the could never be washed out or cut out. I still remember the brand, Heineken. It was a miracle that I lived. I glance to him again, and my gaze falls upon his arms. Spotless. I glance at my own arms, scarred and rough. My father decided that I was the best place to test the sharpness of his knife. As I reminisce about my past, I find a fear building up inside of me. Will I become like my father? Will I abuse my own son? What was the difference between myself, and my father? Would I one day break as well? I shake my head, trying to rid myself of these thoughts, and I keep on driving.

By the time we arrive at the beach, the sun was starting to rise. I take a second to admire the breathtaking sky behind all the clouds. I park the car and look at my still sleeping family before I doze off as well. I wake up to the sound of my wife and son playing in the water. I get out of my car and walk over to my family. My son is building a sandcastle while my wife watches. I look at the waves and watch the tide come in and carry my son’s sand castle away. “That was my 5th sandcastle,” he sighs. However, soon after that he perks up. “But that’s okay, because I know how to improve for next time!” I’m taken a bit by surprise by his words. He smiles and says one of the wisest things I have ever heard. “Sometimes a sandcastle needs to be knocked over again and again for it to be really strong!” That hit home. I burst into tears and my jumps up to comfort me. My son is obviously confused by what’s happening, so he also attempts to comfort me. “Here dad, I found a gift for you.” I dry my tears as he hands me green translucent circle. Sea glass, a really good one too. The edges are smooth, and the circle is almost perfect. I turn the circle over in my hand, and once again I burst into tears. Heineken. The sea glass is from a Heineken bottle. I felt like this was a sign, a sign that my rough past could become something beautiful for those around me. I feel my son tug at my legs. I look down and he looks up. He smiles once again, “I love you dad.” At that moment, the clouds break and the sun starts shining down on me. I can feel him tugging at my knees as well as my heartstrings. This is the difference. The difference between my father and I. My son loves me. I smile back, “You are the biggest blessing I could have ever asked for.” I pull him closer. My dark past was worth it, as long as I can give my son a bright one.