Sunset in Rhode Island

I was born and raised in the smallest state in the United States of America. Now I know what you're thinking, "What could a small state offer?" My answer is: Enough.

This pandemic was one draining but exhausting experience, many lives lost. Money was tight, personalities changed. I can't imagine what impacts it has caused to most than others. But this summer, was a breath of fresh air, not because the heat and fun in the sun after being qurantined for a while. But we can enjoy at least the outdoors and the little things we have.

Now, for those who never been to Rhode Island, we are a small state. Yes, you are right, but we have big places to visit. From the town of Newport to Thayer Street, to historian parts of Pawtucket like Slater mill and The Leroy Theater. Many parts of Rhode Island is just an adventure within a driving distance.

Day in and day out, my thoughts kept running and wondering to what is going to happen next. I was so bummed out that this summer's plans were ruined. I had so many ideas: six flags, festivals, a vacation! Finally, I was so overdue for a vacation! But to my dismay, it wasn't our time yet.

My five-year-old son and I woke up one morning with no plans at all when he suddenly told me he wanted to go swimming, so I thought hey why not, let's go to the lake. I mean, after all, the pandemic is slowly dying down. We packed some bags with extra clothes, some snacks, and drinks. In the car, I remember the scenery, blue skies, and big bushes of green surrounding the river, and mirrors of vivid sunlight reflecting the water. We approached the sign 'John Notte Lake' when I was startled by my son's shrieking shouts of excitement.

"Mommy, we're here! Yes! Yes! The lake! I get to go swimming!"

I laughed and pulled in the parking lot, and gathered all of our things, locked the car, and took the walk to the shore of the lake with my son gripping my hand as he lightly tugged my arm to make me walk faster, we got to the sitting area and settled and organized my blanket and bags and my son's sand toys.

He is so exhilarated and slightly impatient, he took off his shoes and shirt and ran into the lake making large splashing sounds, and laughter filled the outdoor scene. My son was enjoying the lake, this wasn't a fancy hotel resort or a huge theme park, it was just a small lake on the North part of Rhode Island.

I remember sitting on the shore of the lake and watching the sun turn from bright light to smooth, cool waves of pink and orange and slight gold. The scene was dazzling and mesmerizing and just made me feel at peace. Let's face it, this year was draining and scary. But for some reason, a sunset just gives me that hope is coming, because tonight will turn into tomorrow and that's all I want at this point. To live, and get out of my comfort zone.

From, fiances being drained out, to riots, to hatred and confusion. And watching my son having the time of his life and not worried about tomorrow's chaotic mischief and worries. I was laughing and enjoying my time, having fun. Smiling. No worries. No stress.

My anxiety was at ease for once for a long time. My son called to me from the lake and said "Come on Mom, let's play water games!" I nodded my head, as I was finishing my bag of chips. He did something that made me feel warm and happy on the inside: he got out of the water and put his arms up and shouted at the top of his lungs and said "I love my life!"

I took out my phone and captured that moment.

This sunset promised me a tomorrow, and a forever.