We’re at the beach. Kalaloch (pronounced “CLAY-luc”)… It’s on the Pacific coast off the Olympic Peninsula. We discovered it one time when we were driving to the Oregon coast and we’ve come many years since then. We like to get the bluff cabins so we can stare straight at the ocean. We also like coming when it’s cold and rainy and blustery. I wish you all could hear this ocean. It’s so giant and loud and powerful… And when you’re on the beach, looking at the horizon, you have to look up a little bit…
There are logs all along the shore that have washed up… HUMONGOUS logs that would certainly injure or kill a person if they weren’t careful. Beautiful logs… red, brown, tan, gray…
When the tide is out, the beach seems vast…. When it’s in, you might better stay in your cabin or at least on the bluff.
Raney loves the beach ‘cause she can walk mostly off-leash and explore all the smells and choose from a multitude of sticks…in various shapes and sizes.
I love the beach here ‘cause it’s wide open (at low tide) and I can walk forever and ponder many deep and wondrous things. I can talk to myself or God or whoever I feel like talkin’ to…
The first time we came here, Sarah and Hannah were in the third grade. The last time we came, Harv was about two months away from dying…. So… there’s been a lot of life lived between those times.
The beach has always caused me to think deep thoughts… God always seems so big when I’m at the beach – especially one like this one. I almost always get introspective when I come to the beach… and I know that’s okay….
I’ve found that I’m pretty possessive of the way I grieve Harv… I don’t really want to share much out loud about my grief. I know I share a lot with my writing but there are some things that I keep close to me…that I believe are pretty close to sacred in the way I feel them.
How do you let go? How do you get past the wantin’ to tell stories or share inside jokes or call when you’re on a trip? I know you don’t. I’ve known that since Mama died… but I kinda wish there was a point…. And I’m also glad there’s not gonna be… ‘Cause it means that the ones we love are still with us…
So, I will walk on that beach and look up to see the horizon… and I will watch the sun set tonight and think of that man that I love…and others I love… and be thankful their lives intersected with mine…
And, sometimes… I’ll just go ahead and feel that hole (or those holes) more acutely than others… but I will still feel. And I will always love.
1 comment:
Just stopped in to see how you are doing. Glad there are beaches--places bigger than life and full of life. Glad you have that space.
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