The last morning of our summer vacation in Westport we went for an early morning walk on the beach. As we stepped over stones and looked into the nooks and crannies, it was only natural that we fell silent. The gentle tide caressing the rugged coastline was like a mother's hand softening the wrinkles from a tablecloth.
The ocean knows how to give and take, it strikes a balance by offering profound depth and a shallow shore… one can dive deep or remain feet standing. Either way the tides eventually soften the hardest rock.
Letting go a new form is created, surrendering is seen as a gift… I sat on the beach surrendering a million tears– the ocean within me returned to the sea as my father's memory poured out into the lapping tide. Harmony. Mother Nature's hand upon my cheek.
It has been one month today that I have returned to France. The reality of this long journey sinks in… the tide of emotion, ebb and flow, pounding and surrendering, sunrise and sunset… solid ground, gentle wing… an ocean of everything in between.
This morning as I sit in front of my computer, deep in my thoughts, as the tides of emotion roll in and wash out, the memory of that last day becomes a healing balm to the rock of sadness. Calming the roaring dark sea.
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