When I was little my grandmothers lived hours from me. We would travel to visit and every time I left them, I would cry. My parents would pack my brother, sister, and I back into the car and I would wish desperately that we could stay longer. Leaving them felt like I was leaving part of me.
I lived a wonderful childhood. I come from a loving, kind, fun family and it was not that I was leaving them and heading to some version of torture. I just really liked being near them.
As an adult, I feel that way about the sea. When I am not near it, I wish I was. I can close my eyes and take a moment to escape back to it in my imagination. When I am at the doctor and they say, "go to your happy place" before taking my blood pressure, I go to the sea. The sound of it. The smell of it. The sheer expanse and beauty of it. The depth of colors and textures within. The feel of the sand and the joy of touching it - all bring me back to a calm that I feel deep in my heart and belly.
The children and I were fortunate to take a few days for spring vacation with some friends to Destin, Florida. It was a bright spot in the middle of this dreary, lingering winter. When it came time to pile back into the cars, I took my boys back to the magical place where the stairs lead to the sand to share with them my tradition of saying goodbye to the sea. A feeling much like that of leaving my grandmothers as a child, it brings tears to my eyes.
I longed to be home. I looked forward to seeing my husband and sleeping in my own bed. The comforts of our life here in our little bubble are inviting. But I wish, always, when I leave it that I don't have to. I wish that I could be closer to it. I wish that it could be bottled up and moved closer to wear my home is. I daydream the whole ride home about returning to it and finding my own little piece of home near it.
Last night, I turned on the sounds of the sea to fall asleep and was filled with the wonderful memories we made with our friends while on vacation. I felt full, blessed, and thankful to have had my time at the sea again.