I walked on a beach yesterday and didn’t cry.
It may seem stupid in some ways, but as I have shared in previous posts, the beach is the most sacred of spaces that I associate with my late husband, and it has been more than two years since I have had the courage to do so. Continue reading “Small victories”
I can’t get thoughts of the beach out of my mind today.
It would have been my husband’s 62nd birthday, and I know if he were still here, we would be sitting on a sandy dune in Wells Beach Maine, under an umbrella, slathered in SPF 50 while watching people and the waves as they meet on the shore.
Continue reading “To the beach”