Posted by: Wagons Ho | February 15, 2016

The Beach

I felt the need to go to the beach. It’s my happy place. The smells, the sounds, everything about it brings me peace. It restores my soul. The cold, the snow, school, work, finances. I didn’t care about any of that. I wanted to pack a bag, get in the car and go.

I pulled up the website for the rental agency we have always used and my heart stopped. I couldn’t get past the first page. I closed the page.

A few days later I tried again. I looked at their specials. I debated about dates. And finally searched for properties. And there they were. The two houses we have rented in the past. I couldn’t help myself. I pulled one up. It’s too much. I closed the page.

I tried again tonight. I carefully search, avoiding the things I know will bring up those two houses. Memories of searching for the “perfect” house. Of debating pros/cons with mom. Of planning flights, and meals, and activities all come flooding back.  My heart hurts. I can’t get past the first house.

How can something that brought me such joy, such peace, hurt so much? How can I plan a trip to the beach, knowing how much mom loved it, and that she will never be there again? How alike we were. It was her happy place too. The place she wanted us to scatter her ashes. How can I ever go back there?

I’m feeling so lost. I miss my mom.

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