The first time the Gulf waters rise to lick my unsuspecting son’s ankles, he loses his balance. Lurching forward, clutching his hand, I yank him upright. I feel myself swaying, unsettled by the tide, by the sudden vision of his twenty-six-pound body being swept away, swiftly and silently like the sliding sand. Enchanted by the spray of seawater, he laughs and resists my pull, unable to fathom that a force as formidable as the ocean could be anything but benevolent. I scoop him into my arms, kiss his nose, and come away with the sting of salt on my lips.
Callie Dean is a writer, researcher, and musician living in Shreveport, Louisiana. calliebdean.com.