Does the sand that formed the castle remember the hands that molded it?

Yesterday
I met many friends at my favorite restaurant in Hradec
Its called Cook and Look
CnL when you text it.

I have many friends here. All types of people.
Most of them... I don't want to say that it is easy
but...
there are varying degrees of goodbyes
Colleagues you've shared work with
Students you've taught
friends...

and the friends have categories as well...

There is a certain group of friends... a few of them... who I feel a very special mix of
paternallovecompanionhopefulsupportprotectunderstandjoypridenurturefaithletthembewhattheyarehelpthembewhattheycanlearnfromthemaswellasteachthemandseethemfromherewhentheyaretherewhereiusedtobe... ing... ness....

its complicated... feelings

I think of my nieces and I on the beach.
We struggled for about an hour...
with the sand.
We combined forces
dug deep motes
erected high walls of protection
dual walls
built look out towers
prayed

but the water came
no matter our careful planning
our last minute quick thinking
our slyness
our solutions

the water came
and the waves crashed into our creation
the sand melting away like snow in a microwave
our motes becoming shallow lakes
our high walls
rounded burial like mounds
our towers fell

after the waves
what remained... unrecognizable

and the waves returned
we fought
but in the end
the sand we tried to form into something
was lost within the sand we hadn't touched

but was the sand which had stood for a short time
molded by our hands
was that sand changed?
Did it remember our fingers, palms, arms (and feet!)
desperately attempting to defend it
Will the sand remember us?