On Sundays I Get Sentimental

In the early 2000’s, during the waning years of our family trips to the Outer Banks, NC – we arrived at our rental house for the week and, as per tradition, unloaded our children from transport and unleashed them directly to the beach. We didn’t stop to unload or move cold goods to the refrigerator. We all ran down the boardwalk and over the dunes and crashed into the waves that were crashing back on us.

I stood next to my cousin Will while we watched the kids play. I soaked in the salt air and the cold water and let the beach tick itself into me.

“Our blood, our sweat, and our tears are salt water. We spend our lives giving our energy away. All waves are energy. Ocean waves are energy. This is why people come to the beach. Saltwater and waves come back to us”

I was taken back by this. I mean, I love (love) the ocean. But I was just standing there soaking up the salt and he articulated the reasons we were naturally drawn to the beach.

Waves are a physical manifestation of energy and the beach is where we reclaim some of the energy we give off into time and space.

Every living thing gives off energy. We send it into the universe wrapped in emotion and there it lingers for all of eternity. It travels away and spreads broadly where it becomes so thin and delicate we can’t recognize it anymore. But it is always there.

Right now, the sounds of FDR’s infamy speech, and the first cries of a newborn baby, and the last words of Jesus, and the mundane grocery list review of everyone I’ve never met, and all of the symphonies that have ever performed, and every bird that has ever chirped, and the roars of the dinosaurs are still lingering in our universe. Energy waves that can never be destroyed.

Among those are the baby cries and toddler laughs and teenage angst of my daughter. Every time my late husband ever told me he loved me. All of the manifestations of love and life are in the universe.

Every time I ever told them I loved them. Every time I cried with him or for her. Every time we shared something exciting – my sound waves went with theirs.

I hope that my “I love you” finds their “I love you” and our energy waves will travel together the way they were originally intended.

On Sundays, I get sentimental. I’m not so busy on Sundays, so I’ve got all of this extra time to ignore my dirty laundry and have a glass of wine at 1:00pm and listen to the birds that are genuinely happy with the January thaw. Maybe today I’ll clean out my bedside table or make a pie or watch TV while I brows the blogs I follow. No matter my decision I’ll wax poetic and make wishes and listen to the universe.

This whole business is ridiculous. 0 Stars. Would not recommend.

2 thoughts on “On Sundays I Get Sentimental

  1. Silent Hour January 21, 2018 / 120181America/Detroit

    Will defined it in a way I never thought before. And now I feel I miss the sea.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Anonymous January 21, 2018 / 120181America/Detroit

    I love this. And you.

    Liked by 1 person

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