I came in to work early this morning and decided to start my day walking along the beach. The water was flat calm, and dive classes were dressing up in their wetsuits and gear to get in the water. I sat down a log and just stared at the ocean.
I couldn't help but think about my son who had just passed away a few months ago. He was also an ocean lover, being a surfer. I remembered sitting on the beach, soaking in the sun, watching him ride the waves. There'd be a few out there, but I always recognized him, as he was wearing a wetsuit that I had made him. He and the others out there would sit together, chatting as they waited for the waves to come in. They'd take turns as the ridables came in.
I have always lived near the ocean and don't know if I could ever move inland. The ocean is my life, my sanctuary, my home. It has been for me all my life, and for most of my children's lives. They all know how much I treasure the sea, how much I need to be close to it.
As I sat there, I released some tears, I smiled, and I reminisced about the times I've had with my son. Shortly after he died, his brother came home, helped move the shop, and is now with my daily. He, too, loves the ocean and we are making him a wetsuit so he can go diving again.
I cannot live without the ocean. Without the 'vitamin O' I soak in. It is home.