Beach Day

Dear Nora,

Thank you for meeting me at the beach today, it was just what I needed.

After you died, I had this urge to run towards the sound and plunge in. It would come and go, but it was strong. I would imagine what it would be like. How cold would it be? Would it be loud or would it feel peacefully quiet? I’d think about myself surrounded by the dark, frigid water. Submerged in it. I longed for it, but I think I was also afraid of it. I don’t know what I was expecting to come of it. I still remember your aunt saying, “let’s get you to a beach!” when I’d told her. I thought about it, but ultimately declined. I think I wanted to feel something other than despair. I wanted to feel exactly how freezing that water was, but I was afraid that when I emerged everything would be the same. And I know it would’ve been. You’d still be dead and I would’ve been frozen. I can’t say if it would’ve helped.

When we walked down to the beach today, I knew I was getting in. No matter what. I didn’t care about the temperature, the tide, or what anyone else was going to do. Something in me needed to go in the water. It was beautiful out, though rather windy and there were very few clouds in the sky. I stepped on the nearly completely rock covered beach and at my foot there was a rock in the shape of a heart. A few steps later and there was another. Then another and another and I kept finding them without even looking. I headed to the water; it was a bit cold, but it felt good. I stood in it for a minute to adjust to the waves which were actually rather strong. I looked out at the water and the blue sky; I felt the wind all around me. Then I dove in. A wave kind of tumbled me around and I could feel you in that water. It was both quiet and loud, cold and warm. I felt like it was all moving slowly, but in an instant I was up and breathing the fresh sea air.

I spent some time in the water just standing and swimming. I even sat for a bit and let the waves rush around me. I talked to you and knew you were with me. After a bit I told you I was going to head to back to the beach, I thanked for you for coming to the beach with me and blew you a kiss. As I walked out of the water, something told me to look down. Tumbling toward my foot as I stepped was a bright white rock in a sea of brown and grey. I picked it up and couldn’t help but smile ear to ear (and maybe tear up) when I saw it was a wonky, broken heart. I carried it back with me, put it in my bag and it traveled home from Catalina with me. A souvenir from my day at the beach with my daughter.

Love,

Mommy

Originally written to Nora on October 8, 2022