Sunday, January 1, 2012

The Beach




On Christmas day our little family gathered on a stretch of beach across the bay from San Diego on Coronado Island. We played and splashed and gathered shells and watched a crab move in and out of his shell. We laughed and drew pictures in the sand and watched the most beautiful sunset. The light reflected pinks, oranges and yellows off the turquoise blue water. We gazed at the brilliant colors as they filled the sky over head.
As the sun began to set we huddled together to observe this sacred event that happens every night no matter where you are on the planet. It represents the close of the day and creates space for the creation of a new day. There was a chill in the breeze and our feet were cold from playing in the water and yet we felt a feeling of reverence. The beach can be a sacred place of beauty.
As we stood by each other gazing out across the ocean I had memories of being on this same beach just before Lindsey got sick in 2010. We had played and danced with no worries or cares as we watched gold flecks of sand sparkle from under the water. Silver strand beach is named for these gold flecks that gleam in the dark wet sand. As I reflected back to that time we had no idea what lay ahead of us. Sometimes it is good to not know what lies ahead. The beach holds the place for past, present, and future.
I remember that it was on a beach further up the coastline when I first met Todd. We were on our missions and at a winter zone activity at Zuma beach. Of course, we were there serving and committed to our missions but later we shared our feelings about meeting each other that day on the beach. When we met we knew that we had known each other from a space and time before we came here. On the beach it felt like I was saying “hello” to a long lost friend. The beach can bring people into your life.
On Christmas day I reflected about the power of the ocean. It’s power to heal, its power to hold all my sadness when I can’t carry it anymore and even its power to give life. The ocean is one of the most peaceful, beautiful places on the planet. It is a place for meditative reflection. The beach brings feelings of wonder and awe.
I also remembered being on a small beach at Utah Lake the night of Lindsey’s funeral. People gathered in jackets and blankets as we lit lanterns and released them in honor of Lindsey. As we lit the lanterns and let them go, we watched the lights float higher and higher in the sky. Again, it was a sunset and there was a little chill in the breeze. You could feel in the air that summer had come to an end. People were gathered on a beach to say “good-bye” to Lindsey.
Standing on Silver Strand beach in California, four months after Lindsey’s passing, I reflected about the cycles and patterns of mother earth, and Lindsey’s birth, her life and her death. Being there in that one moment in time my breathing changed and I began breathing deeply, I could taste the salt in the air. With a few tears in my eyes, I felt my body relax and begin to trust the rhythm of mother earth. I started to settle into a deeper space of acceptance.
I know in my mind that life here is temporary and this is not our final destination. But, emotionally and physically I was allowing myself to embrace this truth on a deeper level. As I have been going through the grieving process I am experiencing over and over again an acceptance about Lindsey’s passing and I continue to do this in many different ways. I was being gently reminded again that we are all visiting here and mother earth takes care of us while we are here and then we move on. Lindsey’s visit is over and she has gone home.
In Todd’s talk at Lindsey’s funeral he shared a poem about death being like a boat sailing off in the distance and those of us on this side saying good bye to loved ones while watching them sail away saying ‘there she goes”. . .and those gathered on the distant shore watching the boat as it gets closer and saying “Here she comes.”
I love being close to the water and the ocean, seeing the boats sailing on the waves. As I watched the boats from the shore I felt supported and was reminded that I am not drowning and that I am being supported while I am healing from the loss of my daughter, my child, my baby. Being renewed on the beach I felt the power of the ocean and I know I will survive.
I had made a pilgrimage to the beach to release Lindsey. Emotionally I needed to come to peace with what happened to her, to Josh, to me and my family. On Silver Strand beach I watched the golden flecks of sand reflecting time in the water. The beach is a place where time transcends this world. My time with Lindsey is not over we are not separated. She lives…I feel supported while I am healing from the loss of my child. The love between a mother and a child is fluid like the ocean, we may be bound by our mortal bodies, but love cannot be contained. Love knows no bounds, it has no limitations. As I am reminded of these true principles my heart is set free.
At some time in the future I will make the journey from this realm into the next and there will be Lindsey standing on the far distant shore and as she sees me coming she will say “here she comes.” In my heart the beach is a place for play, for letting go, settling into acceptance and also holds the hope for sweet reunion.

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