My kid picked me up a little after eight, and we got on the highway. A couple of hours later, having already visited the arcade, the three of us were sitting in sand chairs beneath a red umbrella. We were surrounded by other, similarly planted people, with a glimpse of the high tide visible between the umbrellas. Overhead, propeller planes trundled past trailing advertisements for restaurants, and parasails floated grandly. Sometimes a beach patrol jeep rolled by, further up the sand.

“It’s nice we live so close to the shore. We can visit heaven for a day any time we like,” I remarked to my kid, and they agreed.

The grandchild spent the next few hours, accompanied by his parent or by me, throwing shells into the water, throwing sand at the water, and throwing water at the water. In between, he dug for sand crabs, built sand castles with me, or ran back to our stuff to wipe the seawater off his face.

I had brought a pen, a journal, and a book, and didn’t look at any of them. I just sat in my chair and looked at the waves.

After a late lunch on the promenade, we got back onto the highway, and headed for home.

“I can see Philadelphia!” announced the grandchild as we crossed the Walt Whitman bridge, and a little bit later, “There’s Daddy’s workplace!” as he pointed to a particular skyscraper. I saw a sign on the ragged riverfront across from us, that read, “THE DIVINE RIGHT OF TRANS PEOPLE” and sent it to my kid to forward to a friend of theirs. We didn’t need the online directions any more, because we were in the perpetual traffic jam at the exit to the Girard Street bridge. A truck swerved past us at the light, two young men carrying grocery bags darted across the moment the light changed, and a person shaped like an immense cracked melon limped slowly along the sidewalk, looking weary but determined. The pavement radiated dry heat. We turned onto my street to drop me off in front of the vacant three-story row house next to my place.

“It’s great to be able to visit heaven, but it’s so nice to be home,” my kid said, with force, and I agreed and waved good bye to the grandchild.