My husband and I were gifted a weekend at the beach with our kiddo. While out there these two young souls were so sweet to watch. They kept whispering to each other. Neither was dressed for the beach. They were enthralled in the ocean and in each other. I was touched by witnessing new love. I was moved by the endless possibilities of their stories.
A little while later, while Matt and I played with Kali on the shoreline, a beautiful older black woman walked by with her mate. She commented on Kali being so pretty. I stopped and looked at her. She radiated. She had a gorgeous bald head and her essence was nothing like I’ve seen in a long time. Being in her presence brought up something intense in me. I found myself needing her hands in mine. I had to ask her story.
I asked her for a hug. She told me her name, “Zelma with a Z.” She was from Washington. We stood as the waves slapped our legs. Two strangers arm in arm watching the ocean be in the moment…doing what it is to do…just being through need of acceptance. There was little words exchanged. It was lovely and simple. I felt the thread that holds us together tighten because we’ve known each other, another time. And we both felt it.
This weekend brought gifts. It created new bondings. It allowed me to shift perspectives. It did what travel always provides for me: Distance from normalcy and the mundane in order to find myself. It removes what I think I know and teaches me that I really don’t know much. It also brought a huge awareness and reminder that traveling with a three year old is not so much a vacation but a jig saw puzzle of how to keep them entertained away from their environment.
As we headed up the mountains I watched my sweet little girl return to equilibrium. I witnessed my husband creating new stories in his head for the novel he’s been working on.
I am deeply grounded. I am exhausted but blessed for having had the moments to laugh, cry, and play. Time away from reality allows me to return to my truth….always.