So
many, many, many of my best memories are from visits to the ocean. Earliest
memory is driving to Florida to spend Christmas with my mother’s family. My
mother and sister in the front seat; me shoving for space between my brothers
in the back seat. The first thing you would notice is the scent…. The salty,
warm, sunlit smell rushing in the car windows. Unmistakable.
Later,
visits with my mom and sister to Kiawah Island. Just girls, eating, laughing,
talking. Free. The quality of light. The sun. The seagulls. We never ran out of
things to say.
A
visit with old friends. A trove of unspoiled sand dollars. Hot cups of coffee
at sunrise on the beach.
Then
more family, my children, husband, cousins, brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews.
Sadness that some couldn’t be there. Grateful for the
beautiful chaos of those that could.
More visits
with my children and husband, too numerous to count, full of laughter, warmth,
games, walks, togetherness. Boys playing chess. Bike rides. Exploring.
Dragonflies. Peace.
Then
back with my husband, children, and their significant others, so significant,
so thankful they trusted us to be us. Learning the new normal. Surprisingly
easy.
A
joyful reunion with my two best friends. Perfect synchronicity even after
decades. Dolphins. Sandpipers.
Then back with my husband, children, their
significant others and their children. Another generation. Joy that increases
with every year. Napping, reading, taking walks, bicycling, games, cooking,
eating, laughing. Too perfect.
It
makes me wonder how much of what we value in memory is tied to specific places.
So much of life comes from the ocean. Yes, that’s part of it. Sense memory by
now. But that’s not all. Now, no beach for a year and a half. Do I miss it? Of
course. But what I really miss are the people. The faces of those memories. The
faces.
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