Cádiz
We went to the sea.
I watched it, the tide that creeps forward and recedes, the fluid mass that connects this shore with that one, connects these memories with those ones.
My whole body ached to see it.
There was some tranquility in knowing I was a little closer to the people I love, my feet docked in the salt and sand – maybe not in the same ocean but in the same waters; the same world that is always different.
Every time there is another story to add. It’s a good place to keep memories - no matter where I go there it is, always the same rolling waves and peaceful feeling, accepting the stories I tell, and keeping them adrift until the next time we meet. It makes me happy and it breaks my heart: coming and going, being reminded of feelings I once had, of the days when I floated without reason or problem, cradled by time and life and happiness and devastation as they all floated by.
They steep in the adventures we are bold enough to reveal- every particle of sand, a volume of one memoir or another, every shell and granule of salt a chronicle of something passed. No tomorrow without today, no now without before…
…always the possibility of a tomorrow without me.
My body still aches.
My two feet planted in the sand.
A gentle breeze.
Waves coming.
Moments going.
In my mind are only thoughts of the sea.