But the moment I'll remember is after Nanna left and Art and I sat on the beach together. He sat on my lap, and waves rolled over our pasty white legs as I piled sand on his feet. His feet slowly disappeared only to reappear from the rush of a wave. We sat there, mostly silently, for 40 minutes, playing with sand, pouring water over our toes, sitting on the beach. It was the sort of moment I had idealized in my mind when it comes to oceans and 3-year-olds, and it was quite wonderful.