I swam in the ocean today. The warm waves carried me. Small fish skimmed over the tops of my feet, tickling my ankles. The water was so clear, I could see the pinpricks of the fish larvae’s slick black eyes.

My daughter-in-law and son swam near me, tossing my 13-month-old granddaughter back and forth between them. She giggled gleefully. Droplets of salt water freckled her sun-kissed face.

My husband, a few yards further into the sea, dove into a cresting wave. His shadow self stretched below him on the sand.

My younger son played paddle ball and bocce ball and splashed through the shallows where water met land. He skimped on sunscreen, though, claiming he was immune to sunburn. Later, he said he thought maybe the Florida sun was hotter than our sun back home.

It was a day well-spent, all of us buoyed by saltwater, toasted by sun, dusted with sand.

Tonight, we are the best kind of tired.