Memories through the waves

The wind roars, whipping the blue panels of the beach umbrella back and forth where I recline beneath, shaded from the sun. My legs, one crossed over the other,  are rough and grainy from the sand that clings to them.

I am doing absolutely nothing even though my iPhone with unread e-mail messages, and a good book reside in the beach bag that rests on the sand within easy reach at my side.

The rhymic sound of the waves breaking on the shore lull me into complacency. I sit and watch and listen, feeling the cool breeze off the sea blow across my skin and toss my hair.

A black crow perches on the top of an unopened umbrella to my right and caws.

The tall seeded grass on the dunes that dot the shore bend over with the wind.

A group of bare-chested men in the waves trudge slowly to shore with big steady and slow strides.

I remember my dad’s strong hand holding onto mine as we moved slowly through the waves and out to where the sea crossed my shoulders. My dad laughing, lifting me over the high waves. Never letting go.


21 thoughts on “Memories through the waves”

  1. @Julia. I can’t seem to reply to comments with my iPad. And now that my computer is out of commission, this will have to do.

    I’m slowly wading back into allowing myself memories of my father before Alzheimer’s. It’s difficult to face the comparison.

  2. Thanks for the video of the beach.. We ended up cancelling our vacation next week due to Katia. This is a nice reminder of the ocean. I like your use of video in your posts.

  3. Nice, a trip to the beach and I didn’t even have to get out of my chair. This is a lovely memory, Christine. Hang onto those. They will bring you much pleasure if you let them.

  4. Christine, I loved these posts about your family. Every family should have an historian like you. I try, but just don’t have the drive (or talent.) When ever I sit down and try to write notes that come to mind the details flood in but there’s no organization. I trudge ahead thinking that one day I’ll put it all together.

    1. Thanks. I value the history I’ve managed to dig up and scrape together so far. I’ve written family history books for both my mother’s and my father’s lineage. You can do it if you want. Start small.


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