This oyster heart reminds me of all the family beach trips we took over the years at the Outer Banks. The last trip we took, Charles was suffering a depressive episode and it was hard to get him out of the basement room. He always denied suffering from depression which makes you truly feel helpless and even question if it’s your imagination. I would gently nudge him about coming outside and he’d come out and skim board for a bit and then go back in the basement.
When we went shell hunting, Charles would pick up any shell. He wasn’t picky about it like I was as a child. We always had a bunch of oyster shells since that’s what you find in North Carolina.