Boogers on the Wall

There’s something about the beach that draws me near to heaven and my little one who is waiting for me there. 

Our family has been to San Clemente, California, three times since I buried my baby in April 2010, and each time I could have sworn he was right beside me sitting on the sand.

I can’t explain it and can’t put my finger on why it happens there.

I know it’s not the wetness of the water. I rarely dip my toes in. It’s always too cold and slimy for me. And it’s definitely not the sand. After an afternoon on the beach I’m crawling with the itchy stuff and can’t brush it off fast enough.

Maybe it’s the vastness of the ocean that makes me feel like a tiny speck on this planet and helps me put things into perspective. Or the cadence of the waves that methodically reminds me that my life here is but a small moment – a blink of an eye.

Both confirm to me the existence of a higher plan. That life is much more than my mortal journey.

Both help me find a tiny piece of comfort in the loss of my baby boy. The beach revives a sense of trust I have in my Maker and my commitment to him.

I’ve got to find a way to make it back to California regularly. The feeling is so peaceful there I wish I could bottle it up in a seashell and take it home with me.