Saturday, July 18, 2009


I think I recognized the restaurant - one of my favorite little places at the beach. He sat across from me, laughing as we talked.

I remember thinking, even in my dream, "my God, he's whole again." His hair was long, threatening to spill into those deep brown eyes. It's been a long time since I've seen it so long.

For the life of me, I can't remember what we were talking about, but I know it included a comment about cheesy bread. But the conversation was comfortable, easy. We laughed, a lot.

My alarm clock jerked me back to this world. But I was whole again, for just a little while.

Thursday, July 9, 2009


The pounding of the surf reverberates within my very being, the salty breeze caressing my skin.


It calls out to me, beckoning me closer, promising forever.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009


It is constantly in motion.

The ever present ebb & flow of the tide causing great swells to roll across the surface. Frothy waves crashing in the shallow waters, quickly crawling their way upon the shore, only to be sucked back out just as quickly.

The sand is forever shifting, the landscape forever changing, at the mercy of the tide & winds.

There is an incredible stillness about it all. A pulse that is so fast it cannot be felt to be measured.

It is endless and it is timeless.

It is where forever is found.

Sunday, July 5, 2009

there's no doubt about it...

I am a creature of habit.

The husband and I decided to try a new beach last week.

I was excited about the idea of seeing lighthouses and exploring a new island.

Well, I was excited until I got there. I don't think the long drive helped. A seven hour drive is a bit of a shock to the system when you're used to getting to the beach within 4-5 hours.

The place was gorgeous. At various points, you could see both the ocean and sound and I found myself in awe when I thought of how often those stretches of island had been under water. Given that fact, I suppose it's no wonder that the island is virtually barren of development.

I had no idea where anything was. The beach we usually visit has become like a second home to me. I know where all the cool little hole-in-the-wall bars are, where all the cheap diners frequented by locals are, where every little side road takes you.

There were no little-hole-the-wall places there and what few side roads existed led only to non-descript beach homes that all looked alike. No cute little cottages, no hot dog stands and NO DOUGHNUTS! What's a girl to do when she can't have doughnuts for breakfast at the beach???

There were plenty of pricey little apparel shops, hammock shops and shops that offered coffee and do-it-yourself beading.

It didn't even smell like beach. I'm not sure if it was the sound or lack of piers or high winds, but there was no salty spray in the air, no immediate whiff of fish, salt, sand to greet you upon your arrival. I missed that.

So, I spent a few days lying on an unfamiliar beach, on an unfamiliar island, that was 7 hours from home.

Thank God I'm leaving tomorrow for some serious "real" beach time with my aunt. We'll stop for doughnuts on the way to the hotel, walk the piers, eat lunch in little hole-in-the-wall places that may not remember your name, but recognize you from years past.

And, the minute we cross the bridge to get to MY island, my beach, we'll be welcomed by a salty, sandy, fishy scent that will linger long after we come home.

There my spirit will be revived and I'll come home recharged and ready to go. Or at least, that's been the routine.

happy independence day

"Suzie" and her husband came over tonight to help us celebrate the fourth.

She's one of the few people who understand...who was around then, who knew both of us, who really gets it.

The pictures in The Boy's room were almost enough to make her cry.

I knew she'd understand the trunk and the strange things it contains...the wallet that still stores a small amount of cash, the candy that was never eaten, the glass jar of water that manages to stay cold no mattter what the temperature.

She recognized the smell immediately. And suddenly I felt a little less crazy.

She would understand why, no matter how good this life is, I will always want something different. Why I nearly welled up in tears tonight, accepting, for the millionth time, that he wasn't here.

She understands that I am no longer whole, that a part of me died with him, that no matter how much time passes, no mattter how much things change or life goes forward, I am his wife. She understands that is who am. She knows that person.

And she wonders how I continue to be the person I've become.

I often wonder the same. And know that I would trade everthing I am, everything I have for just one more moment.