When Tony and I paddleboard in the morning calm, we paddle just far enough to where the stillness is so complete, so tranquil and other worldly, that we stop to lay down on the boards-- to absorb that precious other place where I feel each ocean ripple, hear every soft call from a gull, feel the gentle lap of sea water at my feet.
On our last vacation day, we paddle farther and lay in the stillness longer. Without words, we savor the peace-- for who knows when and if it will come again.
The ocean's arms lull me into the beginning descent of a sound sleep. So peaceful--I want to keep going deeper, but I sense that Tony isn't near. I sit up. He is a small oblong dot on the horizon.
We are so far apart, yet we started together side by side with the purpose of floating blissfully together.
It stuns me to think how unintentionally and quickly we have drifted apart.
Drifted apart is a cliche I've heard my whole life, but this time, it has a literal, real and present meaning mostly because I hardly noticed until our distance apart was measurable.
And I never want to drift apart from him again--both in the literal and metaphorical sense.
On our last vacation day, we paddle farther and lay in the stillness longer. Without words, we savor the peace-- for who knows when and if it will come again.
The ocean's arms lull me into the beginning descent of a sound sleep. So peaceful--I want to keep going deeper, but I sense that Tony isn't near. I sit up. He is a small oblong dot on the horizon.
We are so far apart, yet we started together side by side with the purpose of floating blissfully together.
It stuns me to think how unintentionally and quickly we have drifted apart.
Drifted apart is a cliche I've heard my whole life, but this time, it has a literal, real and present meaning mostly because I hardly noticed until our distance apart was measurable.
And I never want to drift apart from him again--both in the literal and metaphorical sense.