Elly and I sat at the shallow end of the ocean where the waves break for the last time. She had dug a hole when the tide was higher that had filled with water we sat in.
“Would you like to come to my spa? Ellyanna’s Spa of Rest and Relaxation?"
“Why of course, of COURSE.”
“We will start with a sand and mud treatment..."
She spread soppy, goopy sand all over my bare legs.
“You have thighs like Nonnie’s,” contemplates aloud my sweet, soft bodied, 7-year old niece.
Yes. I do have thighs like Nonnie’s; squishy, shapely, noticeable.
“I do. I do have thighs like, Nonnie’s! Isn’t that great?”
Isn’t that great? ... It is. It is great.
(I have thighs like my mother’s. And my grandmother’s. And my great-grandmothers. Isn’t that great? My thighs have a story and a legacy and speak to the strength of genes, God-intention, connection and the comfort of the knowledge of where they come from).
She leans in, belly on the sand, probing my eyes, taking my emotional temperature.
Slow seconds pass with her so near me.
She smiles, unlocking the search.
"Yep. It is. Would you like this sand and mud treatment on your arms? You will have to sit up..."
And we are back. Thighs and souls in tact.