I don’t remember where I got them only when. We were living in Southern California, and it was becoming clear that Myke’s Brown-eyed-girl was going to be our first daughter-in-law. I was in a beachy shop when I saw them and they were on clearance super cheap and really good quality and I got a great idea about how I would use them for my adult children, so I bought 4, 2 silver and 2 my favorite color of teal.  Taylor had not met his Floridian yet so I didn’t know who the bucket was for, but I knew I would need one for her whoever she would be. I packed them away for just the right time. I had not had them long when our world began to look like a very scary roller coaster ride.

Over the next year we moved 5 times and by the time we met the Floridan we were living in an apartment in Northern California, and it was becoming clear that my youngest Son would probably never leave the East Coast, He would move north to North Carolina but not west to California. I had packed and unpacked those buckets several times and never used them not even once. My original plan for them I knew would not be but somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to use them, and they sat in the garage amongst some watering cans on my storage shelf.

When you are raising your children, creating, and crafting a family some of those decisions are rooted in the dreams you have for what that family will look like in the future, but the truth is the reality is often quite different than those dreams, or reels or social platform perfections. Children have their own dreams and if you have encouraged them to live those out…they just might take you up on it. I have worked hard to hold my children with open hands and accept what is rather than what I wish could be so why not use the buckets? Why leave them in pristine condition on the top shelf of the storage shelf? Maybe it was like holding on to the last vestiges of hope that what I had longed for originally could still be? I am sure the true emotions around it are complex and complicated and even if I chose to explore them further, when I chose to explore them further that will be private and not for public consumption. So, the buckets stayed where they were until 2 days before our Pismo trip this year.

We hadn’t been to Pismo with both sons and their families since October of 2019 and it would be River’s first trip. He hadn’t even been born when we all went last time. So as any Mimi worth her salt I had bought walkie talkies from the dollar spot at Target, I had created cute lids on Mason Jars with their initials on laminated paper in the lids so they could take some clam shells home because the clams are back and the shells on the beach now are plentiful. I hadn’t gotten anything to collect the shells because the grand girls had these little wagons, and I knew they would share with their cousins. 

I knew I would end up pulling the little wagons because they would be busy running to find shells and scrambling away from the waves. I was so looking forward to the 4 of them being altogether and looking for shells and building sand castlesish looking things and maybe the 2 oldest would try the boogie boards. All that was left to do was pick up Taylor’s family from the airport the next morning.

Funny how a simple text can start you down a road you had not considered…It simply said “Olivia is worried about not having anything to collect the shells in because their little wagons are all busted up. I told her Mimi probably has that covered…Do you?”

It’s October and I was so tired that the idea of going to the store gave me hives but a Mimi shows up for her grand girl no matter what, right?

I walked out to the garage and looked at the buckets, 2 silver for the boys and 2 teal for the girls in pristine condition waiting to be called into duty.  I knew they could take the abuse that 4 kids ages 2 to 5 could give and I knew they were the prefect solution, but it meant letting go of what I had originally bought them for and using them for something current, it meant embracing what is in the now and seeing it for the beauty it is.

I took them down from the shelf and with permanent marker wrote their names on the bottom. Moving forward and being grateful that I had these beautiful things to give my Grands! I put the other items I had for them inside and packed them up.

They were delighted with my Pismo surprises. The walkie talkies didn’t last long, and the jars waited to be filled with the final shell choices, but the buckets served every purpose you can imagine.

• Shells from the sand were carried in them, the little wire handles perfect for little hands.
• Sand was loaded into them and poured out over and over.
• Many trips to water’s edge to be filled and dragged up the beach to whatever it was they were creating, none of it ever looked like a sandcastle but imaginations were on over drive, and they played so well together.

Those buckets held memories too, tons of new memories, forever memories. I hauled 2 of them up to the fresh water spigot to clean the final round of shells that they would sift through to take home and smiled as I thought about the 4 of them holding something up for me to see.

I taught them to throw the closed whole clams back into the water and we should only keep the ones that are open.

The buckets did all the things they were built for and so much more.

When the week was over the teal ones were taken home by the girls filled with shells and their mom washed and cleaned the shells according to good intel she had found online, and each girl took a shell to school for each of their classmates.  The silver buckets were cleaned and put back in the sand toy tub after the boys had picked a few shells for their mason jars to take back to North Carolina and the buckets will be here for the next time they come to go to Pismo Beach.

Those buckets that I bought for one dream became the useful tool of creating a wonderful now and new tangible memories.

Living in and celebrating what is and letting go of what will never be is freeing. Expectation can be a tough task master and the stealer of current joy. Sometimes just letting what is “be” even if it poses emotional challenges is filing those buckets with the unexpected and miraculous.