I am so very thankful for the sun rising over the ocean each morning. It is a sign of hope set over one of the earth’s most powerful forces.
To be honest, I am having a very difficult weekend. I have become starkly aware of mortality. A couple of days ago, I lost a cousin with whom I was very close. In recent years we had not seen one another as often as we would have liked, but we talked on the phone a couple of times a week. He was seven years my senior, but for some reason as we reached our twenties we found that we enjoyed sailing and mornings watching the sun come up over the ocean.
By the time we were in our thirties and miles all too often separated us, another younger cousin had fallen prey to the mystery and majesty of the ocean. When possible, the three of us would sit on a sand dune early in the morning before the sounds of the day could interrupt the beauty of a sunrise and the constant lapping of the sea on the shore. Often it was not by plan — our meeting on the dunes. It just seemed that the three of us would gravitate to a favorite quiet spot only to find the others already there or soon to arrive. Those were special moments.
I wish I could remember what made those times so special and so vivid in my memory. I can’t even remember what we talked about or if we did. But, I know the feeling of sharing a few magic moments in the early morning hours was a special time and created a special feeling.
Anyway, a couple of days ago my older cousin died. It wasn’t a natural event. It was a tragic accident. There is no need to go into the horrific details — for you or for me. Sadness seemed to take over my life for a couple of days. It’s natural, I suppose. My mind has been running wild touching on many of our adventures, not lingering long enough to trap the details, but almost like a review of a check list to make sure I had all the best stored securely in my mind.
Maybe there is a reason society and work places allow us a three day leave when we lose a loved one. It seems to take that time to begin to regroup. Please note, BEGIN. All that said, I do believe in looking for the positives although initially that was impossible in the case, and in most cases. But, as the tears and the spinning memories subside, I find the need to find something to be thankful for — a reason to smile.
I spent the morning staring at the ocean. I arrived on the shore before the sun appeared. As I thought about my loss —- yes, I’m that selfish — I found solace. You see, as I watch adults today I see them complaining about their jobs, discussing what they want or don’t have, and focusing on how bad life can be. And, I remember my cousin once saying to me when I was too young to know that life would not always be what we want, that he was not going to work at a job that he hated or live a life of suppression — his description of his father’s existence.
And, I must say that my cousin enjoyed his work, his play, and the days along his beloved ocean. The last time I talked to him, he was laughing, telling me how lucky we were to have escaped the box that confines so many lives. Today I remember one of his favorite sayings. “I’m not going to blame anyone for my failures any more than I am going to give anyone credit for my successes. I have lived my choices and my life.”
Today I choose to celebrate his life — and mine. And, I am thankful for the beauty of an ocean sunrise to remind me of the hope of a new day.
