The ocean

At the beach for the first time since I was a preteen. First vacation since I went to the Grand Canyon when I thought I was heading in a different direction. 

The ocean and I have had a torrid past. Met with mayhem and near death experiences. I respect the ocean. Barracudas, sharks, jelly fish, etc. I always feared the ocean and water. 

I know it’s dangers and it’s beauty. 

For me it reminds me of my family. Laced with this tortuous beauty of love and pain. My family has always been closest with water. The ebb and flow of water. I’ve always been the retiscent one when it comes to water and water sports. Drowning as a child will do that. 

But for now I am here. My step-dad is with us as we fulfill one of his dying wishes. An ex-navy man, pilot, and soldier. But we know him as a human. As a boy always wanting to have fun and make life fun. I carry his spirit in times of doubt to remind me to live to the best I can. He was my hero, my daddy, my rock in times of unrest. He died two months after I was raped. 

I miss him and have needed his guidance for a long time. It has hurt to not have him during times of pain, unable to crawl into bed and hug him, and just watch tv. To laugh at things, to make life fun. To cry. 

When we hit the soil and I was surrounded by palm trees I cried like a baby. I still am. 

But I’m thankful he was my father, the man who raised me, and we will spread his ashes on the soil that graced his feet as a child. Love you pops. 


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