Fire Island

My mother’s ashes spread upon the foamy surf. We three children waist-deep in soft morning swells – my brother, my cousin and I – to fulfill her lifelong wish.

Samantha weeps, her second mother gone. I touch my brother’s shoulder as he tips the urn.

My family watches from the beach, my wife helping the kids remember their grandmother swimming in this very water just one year ago.

On that day, her face to the sky, she was once again a child dodging waves with her sister, chasing tiny crabs in the receding sand. Their father waved, blinded by sun.