The weather is strange today. The sky's grey, the air is moist and humid to the point where it's hard to breathe. It's as warm as it is chilly and there's the taste of salt in the air that is blowing gently in from the ocean. The endless sea. She's a cold and hostile bitch. Just as she gave us all life in the beginning she will take it back, forever holding you in the swell of her bosom close to her greedy and unforgiving heart. You would be convinced however that you are floating in a warm bath, surrounded and protected by her omniscience, never knowing that outside the confines of your comfort an entire ocean sits still and waits for the perfect moment in which to reach out and empty the shore lines of their light, love and life.
I've always loved the ocean. It's truly magnificent and awe inspiring. My sister-in-law and nephew had never seen the ocean at all until they visited us from Calgary one year. I remember my sister being so breath taken that she had to sit down. My nephew took a minute and then went running straight for it, not realizing that it would be very cold still for swimming, even in the late summer. I had to laugh though, he jumped out as quick as he jumped in, completely soaked and covered in goose bumps.
I couldn't imagine never seeing the sea, or being on a boat. I spent a lot of time when I was young pulling rock-weed with my Dad for extra money. I would always buy books. Books and music. Books were my first drug. My first escape from the reality that was my lousy childhood. I guess it wasn't all bad, but that's a whole other soap opera. Anyway. My Father and I would go out in his little boat with a crappy outboard motor. Sometimes on the way home we would pull a lobster trap or two and bring home a treat for supper. He was very insistent that we didn't tell my Mother, of course. I remember it so clearly. Shirtless and sweaty with his crazy curly hair. I never thought he was a handsome man, always found him to look rather goofy. The ladies seemed to like him though if I dare say. I remember him pulling the trap on that particularly hot day and saying, "Don't tell Mommy where we got these, whatever you do, tell her they're from the store!" He let out one of his awkward, high pitched laughs afterwards and winked at me. My Dad is a happy guy, always smiling. He has his grumpy side, but mostly I remember him being funny and trying to get me to laugh. He used to pick on me a lot and tickle the living shit out of me, also. Both my parents and all my siblings caught on to how ticklish I am and took full advantage of that situation, might I add. Being the baby of the family by a minimum of 9 or 10 years, I was a victim of constant tickle-torture and teasing. It was frustrating at the time but I know now it was all out of love. They'll get theirs!!!! My Father, especially. I try to manage to get his goat every April Fools Day. I mostly succeed.
They say that the first man a girl falls in love with is her Father and I wholly believe this. It's a different kind of love, though. I always thought he was the smartest person I'd ever met. Still do sometimes, although I'm smarter now in a few ways. His Grandchildren now call him Grumpy Grampie... I can't really imagine him being very grumpy but I'm sure he is in his own way now that he's gotten older and is carrying more stress. Can't say I'm not a cause of said stress. When he found out I was using drugs, he said he wanted to take the situation and wring it dry. He said he wanted to squeeze me until I was dry, also. I guess I can't blame him. He really did save my life. If it weren't for the love & respect I have for him, I don't think I would have put a lot, if any, effort into getting clean when I did.
So, there's that. Until we meet again!
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