It was our first full day of our third trip to Naples and we were ready to hit the beach.  Swimsuits:  check.  Sunscreen:  check.  Cover ups:  check.  Sun hats: check.  Sunglasses:  check.  Basically anything that can block out the beautiful, golden rays of the sun:  check.  Arm floaties:  check.  Mr. Chompers, our alligator, raft:  check.  Cold bottled water:  check.  By the time we were prepared to go, the sun was starting to rise higher and I wanted to get out early.  My husband complained about the sunscreen.  My little one complained about the sunscreen.  My husband proclaimed it greasy; my little girl proclaimed it too cold.  As someone who was once incredibly tanned for the Miss Texas U.S.A. pageant, I have since had several pre-cancer surgeries.  I did not want them to have a back that was carved up like mine.  My little one and I love to find rocks that are heat-shaped and we began leaving them at the foot of our big St. Francis statue who presides over our koi pond.  I hope that we will always share our hearts.  I believe in this picture my little one had discovered what she thought to be a heat-shaped shell.  The American author H. Jackson Brown, Jr. said, “Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye.”  Maybe this shell wasn’t precisely a heart, but she painted one for me upon our return that does resembles one.  I keep it on our coffee table in the den as a reminder of our family time on the beach.  She is my greatest love, and I know for certain that she will always have my heart.