ESSAY | THE WIND PHONE
When the Loneliness Sets In
The power of the sea
At the beach, both sunrise and sunset leave the sky ablaze. A rainbow of color awaits those who witness, who spectate. The waves drum against the sand, scooping up seashells in a steady but deliberate pattern and rhythm, depositing them on the shore for hands to reach and collect.
The gulls call out, pelicans bob on the water, and small shorebirds skittle across the sand, oscillating with the waves, stopping only momentarily to snack at the water’s edge.
Occasionally, dolphins are joyfully spotted. Eager eyes watch them surface and dive, wondering where they will re-emerge, ready to capture their sporting by video.
The breeze causes umbrellas to flap, blows balls, and rafts down the beach, small children scurrying behind to catch them – pails and shovels unpacked and readied for castle construction. Parents and their children toss football or practice lacrosse.
Do we take the time to notice, hear, and experience, or are we forever too busy living for the moment?
Returning to the sea for a few weeks in winter has, yet again, reconstituted me. Rebuilding my life from the ruins of a love lost is no small feat. It is only by the water’s edge, in any weather, that I regain my footing and my balance and consider my future.
The salt air and water refresh me in a way no other experience in life can accomplish. They heal me as medication to my heart, encouraging me to breathe and feel the sun’s warmth on my face so that I may, yet, dream again.
You may call me romantic, and I accept that label with gratitude. Finding a reason to continue to live after the loss of my husband is a process I did not believe I would or could survive. I am here, and I thrive despite all the pain, no matter how difficult the journey, no matter how lonely the nights.
The last thing that I desire is to make this pilgrimage alone. In the last two and a half years, I have seen the true power of women surface around me in extraordinary ways.
Today, on my beach walk, I encountered many groups of women, in all manner of hats, straw to ballcaps, merrily exchanging stories.
Should I ever share my life again, it would be unexpected and unsolicited. Instead, I am grateful for the gift of special female friends, as reminded today.
My dreams now are full of waves, sunrises, and sunsets, and how to make the best life for myself and others similarly affected.
The glistening pathway made by late-day sunshine on the water, as in the photo above, shows me the way, the connection between where I came from, where I stand firmly now, and what the path ahead can be. That connection stabilizes and indescribably motivates me.
A friend recently spoke of “home” as a matter of physical location. “Home” is no longer the four walls of the dwelling where I shared a life with my spouse; it is now wherever I am content. This month, it is here, by the shore.
It is hard to find a quote worthy of such a journey, but what northeastern-born Yankee doesn’t love Longfellow?
“My soul is full of longing for the secret of the sea, and the heart of the great ocean sends a thrilling pulse through me.” – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
