Everywhere You Go, There You Are

I’ve been traveling steadily and not blogging at all.  Some getaways with my husband and some with my girlfriends, too.  It has been both refreshing and difficult.  I have this need for new, new anything and I have gone looking up the coast for it.

The girls and I took off for Monterey, CA, and during the car ride we rolled over the problems with society and shared our thoughts on how to solve them.  We took turns driving, took turns watching the fields pass by, took turns telling our stories and catching up from too many months apart.

somewhere in Central California
Somewhere in Central California

Once there, we planned a meal or two, drank wine by the open pit outside our Hotwire hotel and laughed and cried because we could.  I drank an unknown forgettable beer solely because it was from a brewery called, Smith.  I slept fitfully and admired the town at night and during the day.  The 17 mile drive was confirmed, as we all agreed we needed nature.  A herd of deer gingerly walked amongst the bushes, two wild turkeys waddled alongside a mountain, and barking seals caught our attention as they reached out to the morning sun. My heart couldn’t take much managing and I was content on speaking up when I wanted to see something or quieting down when I didn’t care.  My girls loved me and helped me.

I saw a view I wanted more of, so we pulled over.  I carefully climbed down the dark uneven rocks and walked barefoot across the cold, cold sand.  Wyatt was on my heart, instantly, like always.  Using my left leg, I embedded his name between stones, rocks and water.  I will always write his name in the sand.  I watched the tide dip into the grooves of his letters and I turned away before they could wash away.

My forever son, my forever love.  I ache for you everyday.  On that late July morning, Wyatt was with me; close, actually.  In the cool beach breeze, in the icy sand pressed under my feet.  I talked to him and asked him if he missed me.  I miss you so very much, I quietly said.

We drove further, slowly watching the miles from behind spotted car windows.  I looked down at my empty lap and saw myself sitting there alone.  I wasn’t trying to get away from Wyatt by leaving home, I was trying something else, but I don’t know what it was.  I seem to be everywhere I look, Wyatt is everywhere I look, my grief comes with me and my love comes with me, too.  This baggage is always here.

The next day we needed more nature.  The Golden Gate Bridge seemed like a good place to cross over, so we did.  The Muir Woods aren’t too far and I told the girls that that was a great place for some Redwood reality.  Besides, I love most things connected to Teddy Roosevelt, one of my favorite presidents.  I let some space build between me and my girls and I walked on the path, looking down at my feet and up towards the tallest Redwoods.  They protectively led me further and further.  The sun came through in sparks and was neither bright nor dull.  It was a magical feeling, being so close to these sentinels and being so quiet with them, too.

This newness is healing.  It’s hard to be somewhere I’ve already been when Wyatt was alive.  I compare myself to those times and how it used to be.  With the new, I have no memory and am instead, creating.  The Redwoods loosened my grip on my state; I wanted to hug them and never let go.  The signs posting Please Do Not Touch, were hard to read.  All I wanted to do was touch, just like a small child in a dainty collectibles store.



2 thoughts on “Everywhere You Go, There You Are

  1. My son is with me everywhere I go too x I write his name in the sand & try & find the letters of his name in random objects like shells, leaves etc. Sorry for your loss x


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