The Sea Delivers

02/27/2017

The Sea Delivers

So Olive made signs.

And we let other beach walkers know to look out for a black and grey fore-arm crutch.

Otherwise known as Elias's cane, last seen when a double wave knocked him to his knees, when a second wave went over his head, when he let go of the handle to brace his fall and the force of the riptide pulled his right cane from his arm, and it disappeared under the salted sea.

Gone.

And the Atlantic is no small pond.

But the tides smiled upon our boy-- upon this life of ours that is so often unexpected.

I woke this morning in time to watch the sun emerge out of the ocean. As I waited for the great star's arrival, I walked slowly along the beach, head down, searching for shells--Cockles, Scallops, Olives, Sand dollars--searching, searching, often picking up broken pieces, beautiful in their brokenness, in their imperfections.

"Good morning," a man's voice said, and I looked up to see a black and grey cane in his hand.

"Did you find that cane on the beach."

"Yeah, a couple hundred yards down. I'm looking for Sue."

"That's my Mom. I'm Christy. Oh my god, I cant believe you found my son's cane!"

He handed me Elias's crutch, and introduced himself as Tom, and that's when I realized he was the man my Mom told me about, the one who walks the beach every morning and picks up trash, and who, when she told him about the missing cane, replied, " Oh, don't worry, I'll find it."

Oh, the power of positive thinking. He could be my teacher. My sage. My reminder that the glass is how you perceive it.

"You're the one who said you would find it!"

"That's right," he answered.

"Can I hug you?"

And so before the sun rose, I embraced the finder of the cane, before he walked on down the beach, picking up plastic bottles, spoons, lids, and the possible treasure.

And as that great ball of fire rose up out of the Atlantic, I danced on the beach, and waved the cane in the air, and thought about all the unexpected moments that make a life.