By The Sea

Thoughts on a life

Millions of grains of sand stick to my feet and legs as I sit watching the surf ebb and flow. It never occurred to me that I would miss you. These past months have been quiet to say the least. Empty.

I hadn’t really planned to visit the ocean again. It was a piece of life that I had packed away with other memories. The longing was too strong and the sea beckoned me to return.

I drove here alone and shall return the same way. Alone. A sad word. Only five little letters. But, it was the same number as a little family I once knew and loved. Husband, wife, big brother and two sisters
who lived in a house outside of town near Small Town, USA. There was nothing grand nor significant to the outside world. We were just a family, doing what families do. Yet, we had love.

The day came (much too quickly, I might add) when all the children left for greener pastures. They found mates, jobs and had children, settling near cities quite a distance away. They decided to begin their own traditions with their growing families, and became involved in all kinds of activities. Precious family time spent together leaving little leftover for those trips back home. After all, parents would just have to understand. They would be there when busy schedules allowed a few hours for the drive, wouldn’t they? And, we have trips planned and football and soccer, basketball and work, and that trip with Bob and Ann. No matter that the trip comes within 20 miles of home, there simply isn’t enough time to drop by.

You always told me that they needed their space. “Leave them alone,” you said. And, so, they all drifted ted to their own universe where life was filled with their own making.
I miss them! Too many sad thoughts!

I have heard it said that time is a thief, ravaging lives and wreaking havoc. A thief might be kinder. At least no mortal can steal
memories. No human can cause health issues. No burglar can boast of not spending precious time with someone. And no one would ever think to steal the harsh words often spoken. Words that sting far worse than nettles and burn deep to the very soul. Time has been filled with those in my life. It became a learning experience. I learned my lessons from a formidable teacher and became an expert at returning the barbs and arrows. As life progressed, it became an unpleasant path to follow. The criticism in every facet of my being bred indifference.

Whatever happened to the young couple who were so carefree and so much in love? Laughter and happiness once lavished grew elusive. Fault belonged to no one. It simply seeped into existence.

Comfort can become doable in many situations. It doesn’t require affection. It eases into routine. Routine is addictive and much better with age than the unknown. And so it goes. Addictive comfortability.

I sit here watching. Waves roll and retreat. They are constant as they kiss the sandy shore. Predictability was never our long suite. Strings of alphabet letters like OCD and ADD/ADHD pervaded our days and nights. These were tempered by anxiety and depression and colored by passive aggression. Sometimes anger, instant and violent appeared from no where and often dissipated as quickly as it came.

My egg shells were quickly crushed as I tried to tread lightly. But, it didn’t matter how I tried, I still seemed to irritate the matter until I didn’t and the tantrum ended.

There were good times over the years. Fleeting moments when smiles and laughter reigned. Memorable moments of time shared by a couple. There were miles and miles of ample terrain from which to draw. Love had blossomed. These sands are testament to so many good times and a few that were best washed away. But it is said time and tides wait for no one. Memories, only.

I brush the grains of sand away and pack up my baggage. There are years of it! This will be my last goodbye. An apartment awaits me in an assisted living complex I am told. A sterile space sanitized of caring and loving family who all live hundreds of miles away. This will be a place that I will enjoy, with lots of activities to fill my days; a place filled with other catalogued souls who have outlived their usefulness. A place where I can live out my life left with my damnable thoughts to torture me.

As I turn to walk away, I hear the whispers of the waves beckoning me not to go. Gulls overhead call out in anguished pleas for me to stay. And there in the water where the breakers begin, I see a young man waving-he’s very familiar-a face from long ago smiling and urging me to join him.

My how warm the waves feel as the surf swirls around my legs. Caressing..enveloping, loving..and, I feel that I am finally home.



845 words
Entry for Short Shots Contest