My mom and I spent 30+ days at the beach (we call it ‘the shore’) every year for 30 years. We would go not just in the summer, but in the spring and fall as well. It was home away from home.
My mom passed away three years ago next week, and although I have returned to the shore a few times since her passing, I have not been on the beach.
Having recently turned 50, my best friend took me to a beach I had never been to for an overnight celebration. On Wednesday, three years and nine months after my last trip with my mom, I kicked off my flip flops and planted my bare feet back firmly on the warm, familiar sand.
So much has happened since that last trip, my mom is gone and so is a large part of my vision. But it turns out that you can go home again, if home is a place you love, where you can relax, feel completely comfortable and be yourself wtth someone who knows you best and loves you anyway.
A big moment? Definitely. A bittersweet moment? Surprisingly, no. It was all sweet and no bitter. It was joy and gratitude and love. It was home.
