Moonlight on Oceans – Redux

My life has been so much like the rocks on the beach, almost drowning as the ocean washes over me each time. It has been an exhausting struggle to put one foot in front of the other. Tonight, I stood above the ocean, and saw the waves not just wash over the rocks, but play and dance on the shore as well. I saw the beauty of the moon on the water, and the size of the ocean, and realized that I am not the only rock on the shore, and the ocean is much bigger, and much more beautiful than I ever realized. I looked at the stars above me, and realized that I am surrounded by a million tiny points of light. I understood a bit, that a human heart, a mother’s heart is so much larger and deeper than I will ever know, and it heals in ways I do not fully understand. Joy is so much more than sorrow. – March 21, 2008

So I wrote on Gabe’s due date 7 years ago after staring at the ocean below the Hearst Castle in California.

Jamaica, Hawaii, Florida, California, Vancouver, Victoria, Tofino, Calais and Dover. 

All of the places in the world I have looked for truth between sea foam and sea sand and all of the ways the ocean has called to me; reminding me that I am small and it is great. All of the times that I have stood on beaches and been almost capsized. Arisen, sputtering, drenched in salt water, barely able to stand.

This is the way of grieving – we remember who we were and try and figure out who we are becoming. I thought, after the sudden break that was Gabriel here and not, that there would come a time when grief would leave me be. It would do the work of trying and tempering me, leaving me fully formed.

The ocean does not know it is the ocean. It does not know it is full of life, it does not need to know the way of tides. It simply is. It has no master plan and relies on the inexorability of time and mass and volume. Ocean will wear down rock, I have seen it.

And the sun will leave a crimson trail as it sets. Sometimes, as it passes the horizon, there shall be a green flash. The moon shall ride, leaving a trail of white across still water.

And the waves will dance and play.

And the waves will dance and play.

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