April 24, 2026

One of the things my mother-in-law and I had in common, in addition to a fondness for her son, was a love for beachcombing. Her house in northern California was 45 minutes from Stinson Beach, which always has interesting beachcombing, and every time we visited we'd spend time there. In her later years, it was difficult for her to walk on the sand, but she would cheer on my efforts from her beach chair. After I would return from my walk up and down the shoreline, she would eagerly ask, "Did you find any treasures?". She would then exclaim with me over pretty rocks and shells, colorful pieces of sea glass, and the most wonderful treasure of all: sand dollars. We always found one or two on our visits to Stinson Beach.

I am writing to you right now from northern California. We're here for my mother in law's burial, and an opportunity to celebrate her life in the places she loved so dearly. We paid a visit to Stinson Beach today, and as William made some phone calls to finalize arrangements, I went beachcombing, with my mother in law on my mind. She, like me, was always careful not to disturb live sand dollars, and I passed up a few before I spotted my first "not-alive" one of the day. As I picked it up, I marveled at how even after death, sand dollars offer beauty. They do not need to be present in body, to be present in spirit. And even after they're gone, they bring joy and wonder. It's quite a legacy.

As it happened, I ended up finding not just one, and not just two, but 14 sand dollar "shells" today, and saw at least 14 other live ones that I said hello to as I kept walking. As we left the beach, I thanked my mother in law for the treasures, and smiled up at the sun.

My prayer for you this week is to find legacies of beauty all around you.