My Beach Morning

My typical morning routine, recently, has been to leave the house by 7:10 am to arrive at Honeymoon Island State Park, and wait in line for entry at 8am.

While waiting, I either connect with a friend on the phone or do some reading.

Running behind schedule to leave for the beach, I grabbed my travel journal from my 1999 India trip, to take with me for reading material.

My friend was not available to talk, so I reached for the journal, hoping for writing subject inspiration.

I opened the journal to a random page, and saw my father’s handwriting, which made me cry. I sat and used voice memo to record my thoughts since I couldn’t see clearly enough to write.

A little background on my Dad and our relationship

My father, like many others in my life, never quite ‘got me’.

Certainly understandable.

Although very close when I was a young one, as I became my own person, with viewpoints that differed from his, largely based in his life experiences and conditioning, a chasm developed.

Over the years, after much heartache due to our differences in perspective, we agreed to disagree, and not discuss particular issues upon which we were each passionate, and at opposite ends of a spectrum.

My pregnancy and marriage at 18 created an even deeper distance in our relationship, one that would take many years to heal.

My father did not advance past the 8th grade in school, but he was self educated, and an avid reader. No one was more proud than him, to see me graduate from nursing school, then later achieve a Bachelor’s Degree.

When I decided to start my own business in 1995, he was concerned, and doubtful that I could be successful. To his credit, after he told me his initial concern, he never mentioned it again, and was able to tell me years later, in writing, how proud he was of my accomplishment.

When I decided to travel to India and study Ayurvedic Medicine, he was shocked. He did not understand why I would want to explore an approach to healthcare outside of what I learned as a nurse, and he was initially very vocal about his concerns for my safety, travelling ‘half way’ around the world, to study with my teacher, who I had met, and studied with, through the internet (keep in mind this was 2 decades ago).

Having never traveled that far from home, I decided to put together a journal of cards, well wishes, photos of family and friends, inspirational quotes and poems, to ‘keep me company’, in India!

I asked my dad if he would write a few words in my journal. He surprised me, in his eagerness to do so. This is the page I randomly opened to this morning.

I felt as though my Dad was right there with me.

And then, for a second day, a rainbow

The gates are unlocked. I join the others as we enter the park. I arrive at the beach, it’s low tide, the clouds are again promising rain. As I walk out to the sea wall, I am in awe of the cloud formations, and then I see the rainbow, behind the cloud. The second day in a row…a rainbow. I am speechless, and yes, again, I am in tears. The second day, connected to a loved one, through tears and a rainbow.

A sign of healing…on the horizon.