CHAPTER 2 – A WALK ON THE BEACH/part 1

 

The sun was just beginning to light the distant horizon and glistened across the peaceful waters for as far as the eye could see.  I walked the beach wondering what emotions the day would bring and if I could hold it together for another two.  I need to stay strong for Mom.  I know if she sees the pain on my face, it will make hers harder to bear.  She has been accustomed to dealing with the raging hormones of three adolescent girls and the past due bills of young women’s shopping sprees.  She has even been equipped for the heart breaks that have come along the way when “he” didn’t turn out to be the “one” for each of us.  This, however, I know is not something she has been rehearsed in.  Sarah the youngest, has been the delicate, weepy one and Christina fighting and feisty, but I have always stood solid level-headed and strong.  I have always been the “together” sister amongst the three of us.  Maybe it’s me that I am worried about.  Maybe, this time, I will be the weepy, fighting and feisty.  I am still numb.  I am afraid to see him, dressed in his best, laying there for all to view.  The only wake I have been to was my great-grandmother when I was seven.  I had thought she looked like she was sleeping and didn’t truly understand that we would never again taste her stuffing on Thanksgiving or feel her warm embraces.  I didn’t really understand what her passing meant then, but now I do.  Now I truly know what it means to lose someone dear from your life, forever.  A smooth rock stares up at me on the white sand.  The contrast of its deep, gray shade draws me to it.  As I grasp it and rub the sand off with my thumb and index fingers, I remember the many, much like this one, that Dad and I had collected through the years.  I always loved our times on the beach in the early morning.  We would arise before everyone and run for miles along the shore.  With sweat dripping and hearts racing we would finish with a quiet walk gathering driftwood, rocks and shells.  This was my time to have his undivided attention, listening ear and humor that made everything seem all right.  Feeling this rock tucked in my hand gave me comfort and the courage to face the pending, public farewell.  I felt as if I held this rock tightly, I could feel the hand of my father and that would make me able to face this through his strength.

 

I crossed the Borne Bridge and headed to high way 93.  As I scanned the stations, no song seemed to fit.  I don’t want to listen to any of my CDs, but don’t want silence.  I cracked the windows and let the rush of traffic and wind fill my head.  So many memories come to me.  The time, just two years ago, when I told my family that Justin and I were speaking of marriage and Dad said, “You just follow your heart.’  Or, when I was only six and Dad read my favorite book over and over until he drove away the hurt from the boys who had thrown worms at me at the bus stop.  A loud car horn alerts me that I am drifting from my lane and brings me back to reality.  Where the hell is Justin?  I had left him three messages and called him countless times in the past two days.  He can’t be that busy taking depositions.  He must at least take breaks to eat, sleep and urinate!  His phone went to voicemail every time I called.  I didn’t want to give him the news in a message, but I left messages saying that it was urgent that we speak and I still hadn’t heard back from him.  He must have heard my messages by now.  I usually don’t call him when he is out of town working.  I respect his work and have never wanted to become an interference or distraction.  He has sacrificed so much to get to where he is and he is so close to becoming partner.  His making partner would be a tremendous feat considering he is only thirty and the prestige of the firm.  Walker and Johnson is one of the top corporate law firms on the east coast and is notorious for only offering partnership to family, or those not far from it.  Justin was neither, but a double eagle from Boston College and graduated first in his class.  I just don’t understand why he has not returned a call.  He always calls me when he’s away, even if just to say good night.