Am pleased to again share another poignant writing by a former client of mine, from over a decade past, who lost her adult daughter suddenly in an auto accident, two months before her wedding.  I’ve recently received permission to post not only any of her numerous writings, but to also share an update on the author’s current ‘recovery status,’ for lack of a better term.  The update is at the end, a P.S., so please don’t miss it!   I now give you the a -maz – ing – ly written metaphoric story that I have simply named, The Beach:

 

At 2:00 am on March 31, 2009, my life changed forever and I fell into an abyss of heartbreak that has yet to end.  But I can see a path even though I don’t want to follow it.

        I was dropped on a beach from above onto a lonely beach.  There was a terrible storm and the waves and wind were all consuming.  The salt water stung my eyes while the wind whipped the sand over me and ate my flesh.  The waves pelted me from all sides and the wind kept me pinned to the beach floor.  I can’t see anyone because I can’t open my eyes.  I can’t hear anyone because the storm is so loud.  I can’t feel anyone because I think I am alone.

        Behind me, past the beach, was a forest of tall trees bending to the screeching wind.  To my left, the beach rose to meet the black rich soil of the forest as a cliff was formed with mighty rocks and boulders below at the surf’s edge.  The waves pelted the rocks showing only the razor sharp edges gazing at the slumped form laying on the edge of the cliff above.

        To my right was unending beach stretching for eternity but I can see other shapeless forms standing, kneeling or laying in the surf,  fighting the storm helplessly.

        I stayed in the same place on this beach for months as the water and wind and salt ravaged my body and soul.  I could not reach out and talk to anyone else on the beach.  As time went by, I noticed many of the shapes on the beach were now gone.  They had either ran into the forest, swam into the ocean or walked farther down the beach.  A few were still in the same place.  The shape on the cliff had moved closer to the edge.

        Slowly the storm began easing-up, letting me finally take an uninterrupted breath but leaving me cold and shivering.  As the days went by, I noticed that the waves had diminished but continually washed over me, keeping me warm as I lay in the surf.  The salt still burned my eyes and the sand still scared my skin….but the wind had subsided.

        I looked down the beach for the others and saw a few still in the surf like me.  I watched the form on the cliff finally crawl into the forest and back to the cliff over and over again.  Looking for something to keep him warm, he finds nothing.

        Many sun rises and sunsets have come and gone since the storm changed my life.  The young man on the cliff has climbed down to sit with me instead of falling off the edge.  The ones left on the beach have walked around the edge of the forest and back again, looking for a path.  I can only see miles of unending beach waiting for me to walk it.

        But I like sitting in the beach puddles and letting the now warm water wash over me.  Sometimes I wish the storm would come back so I could feel the strength of its power engulfing me.  This time however, keeping me safe and far away from reality.

        The ocean waves are memories of Mary.  I need to stay close to the water’s edge so as the tide comes and goes, it can caress my soul.  Some days the waves are taller than I am and overwhelm me, knocking me down. Some days they gently wash over my feet and the sand disappears from under me as I sink down.  I don’t want to move but the waves are carving a path down the beach.

        The young man beside me wants to walk away from the ocean and go into the forest.  I want him to walk with me down the beach where the others are patiently waiting for us.  It’s a hard decision for both of us.  It will be a long journey, no matter which way we go.

 

P.S. [Sept. 2021]:  The author’s recent update: “I haven’t read this in a long, long time.  I’m still walking down the beach because I can’t be without the memories washing over me.  But the beach is beautiful, the sunshine warm and I have lots of people walking with me holding hands and smiling.  ….The young man…. [and I] are still very close…”  P.S.S.: “I’ll never get off that beach but at least it’s calmer.”