It's in the smell of the salty air, it's in the crashing of the waves against my body, it's in the notes pushed pinned up she left behind that I had forgotten were there. It's in photos and poems passed on by well intentioned friends after her death. It's in driving past the old house and keeping myself from wandering back up to the deck where we would sit and talk and listen to the sounds of the Ocean. It's in the deep morning sleep and waking to little bodies curled up against my skin.
We went back to the NC beaches where I have spent most of my life. Spent time in my brothers beach house filled with memories and surf boards. And drove past the other houses we used to call home.
One year and still fighting back the sting of those tears that come from a place so deep in my soul. This is the place I can feel her in my bones. My daughter has forgotten her days here with her Gigi. It's up to me to remind her. It's up to me to begin to stitch together the old and the new.
It's in the sand in their toes and hair, it's in outdoor showers, it's in old friends with new little faces, it's in donuts and seashells in plastic cups, it's in the joy as this place takes over their souls. When I began to put together images from our trip I thought I would include a lot more of the pretty. I changed my mind and decided to show only the ones that spoke to my soul. Many for reasons only I know.