Back to the Ocean

Windows are dangerous. I mean there is the obvious bit about falling out, but I mean daydreaming. I cannot focus to save my life. I seem lost. So lost, that I can’t even tell if I am or not. Maybe I just need to get used to my new surroundings rather than dreaming about something more. This line of thinking makes me think of my mother. She was a dreamer, much like her own mother; our family legacy being melancholy.

They dreamt for a lot more out of life, but didn’t we all reach heights that our own mothers could not. Why can we not be satisfied with the lives that we crafted for ourselves. This kind of thinking makes me crave a trip, especially one to the ocean. The ocean comes to my mind and heart like a forgotten love or dream. The kind where you immediately shame yourself for ever forgetting and immediately long for. Thankfully, I actually have the means to take a small trip.

I do spend several days talking myself in and out of it still. That’s the thing about shame. It can argue both sides. So who to listen to? In the end, I decide that I am not running away or wasting my time (trying to convince myself really) and book a motel. Commitment makes it easier to stay on a path. So now I can also commit myself to the dream of the ocean again. Although I know I am about to be reminded of my past and wonder if I am doing good or harm to my own psyche by escaping there.

Morning of, I am excited though. I love road trips. I always have, plain and simple. So loading up and grabbing gas, I head out and wake up my sense of adventure as the sun rises. I won’t bore you with the details of a solo road trip, but just know that it involved lots of Hilary Duff and random Spanish and Pop songs, so the best soundtrack ever. When I pull up into the motel, one that I know I have not been to before; I immediately am hit with deja vu already!

It somehow looks like hotels and motels from different trips over my life, but yet I know that they each were distinctly different. This place is already like a puzzle made up of pieces from my past. An omen or a sign? My friend once told me when you have deja vu, that means you are on your life path. So trusting in something more than me, I check in early and plan to head to the beach.

As I approach the beach, I think of my mother and the last time we were here. It was a simple day trip, but lovely. A little bit chaotic, since that is our brand; but we got through the day. I get up now to walk down the same pier and remember her fondly for once. We have an estranged relationship; but make no mistake, I love my mother. We are just complicated.

I am already wading in memories as I try to find the coffee shop. Some things have changed here in the years since I have come back and I am beginning to worry that it is gone as well. That’s when I see it. I stop and laugh, surely a bit odd for any one caring to notice the lone woman. My mind supplies the memory easily:

Three women, a mother and two daughters on their family trip walk down the pier enjoying the activities when a man approaches them. He simply asks, “Do you know where I could get a cup of coffee?”

All three pause as they stare past the man, in the direction he just came from… it is the coffee shop. The mother speaks up, “Um, yea. There’s one just back that way.”

The man looks, thanks them and then wanders not quite in the right direction. All three women make eye contact before bursting out laughing.

I snap a picture on my phone although it is so bright I can’t see the screen. (Later, it will be very obscure to know that the coffee shop is the point of that photo.) I keep walking wondering where my mind will take me next. To the end of the pier apparently, not a far reach really.

It is gorgeous from here, breathtaking. It’s not sunset, but it reminds me of my grandmother and her love for the ocean. She always wondered why she didn’t live there. I remember wondering too. She was the one who always seemed to have the means to do anything. So why didn’t she follow her dreams? I still don’t know the answer. I also don’t know what dreams my mother followed or didn’t. I do know that both of them were unsatisfied with life for a long time. Same as me really.

If I am honest, most of my thoughts are about my family and our time together and where it has led us. It is exhausting sometimes since then it reminds me that everything I’ve done has been my choice. It may have been to protect ourselves, but my family does love each other. We just have issues understanding what all that means. I hope I am learning.

With that, I turn and start to walk back down the pier. I am going to grab a meal that echoes the last trip and open up the book that inspired a franchise. I know this title is one of my mother’s favorite movies, but I never knew the book existed until I found it in a used book aisle. I wonder if she ever read the book. I always thought I understood why my mother loved the movie, but reading the book I wonder again. I personally had issues with such a pained character which I am aware is only because I was also someone hurting and trying to find their way. It’s hard to accept that when you don’t want to see it in yourself.

Finishing my meal, I shake myself from such thoughts and enjoy the memories of watching the movie with my mother instead. I am doing more of that on this trip I notice. I may be reminded of my family and thinking about where we are in our lives, but I am still enjoying these memories instead of remembering the pain we experienced. On this line of thinking, I am remembering our chaotic trip into the city:

My mother has planned out our day trip to make sure we hit the hot spots. So tonight we are going to the same place famous for its chili burgers. We have never driven in the city and are not prepared for the directions nor when some sections are impossible to get through. We manage though. This is where the chaos of the day has bundled itself. We got the burgers, and somehow cannot quite enjoy them though due to the extra efforts and stress it took us to get here.

I laugh now as I think of the memory. I do remember feeling highly anxious every moment for a meal that was alright and probably would have been better if we could have relaxed. So now I make a plan to find a burger in the city. Let’s make a new memory inspired by another. Walking back to the motel though, I spot a different burger spot with another family memory!

After a day at the beach, my family is grabbing burgers at a known spot in town for getting to make your own; they have all kinds of options like chili, bacon, and even an egg! I am around eleven so it is pretty exciting and revolutionary. Of course, I want it all! My mother immediately says, “Who gets an egg on a burger?”

So I am sad, but do not get the egg. The burger is still very tasty. I do find out later that my dad whispered to my mother at the time that he does in fact get eggs on his burgers! Out of solidarity though, he did not this time. It would be years until I finally did get an egg on my burger and enjoyed the wonders that it is though.

Giggling at this memory now, I know that I am going to get a burger from here instead and then head into the city for something else. I still want to rewrite those bad city driving memories for us. It’s even more ironic that it is this place because I have gone through some health changes that restrict my diet significantly. So I order my alternative burger without the egg and still enjoy a burger from this place all over again.

The next morning I head out to be on the beach one more time before I go. I sit and finish off my book. Inspiration hits me then as I realize I haven’t visited a used bookstore in this state. Odd considering that is a mission in all other states I have been too. I look up just ‘used books’ and then it pops up. Now I know this is a famous place so of course it came up; but I once thought I would get married there when I was planning another future. A forgotten promise yet again coming up. Although this one reminds me that I don't have to let go of all parts of my past dreams; even if some didn’t work out like we thought they would. So now I am convinced Fate is leading me down this memory lane. Feeling intrigued and open to the idea of what might be at the end, I head back to the motel to check out.

Discussing the morning with the woman there as she completed her tasks, I end up shocking us both by asking, “Do you like living here?”

She is kind though and takes the conversation topic easy. We end up having quite the discussion about the possibilities that exist there just to be happy. She even shares with me her areas of success and how one can easily make it their own way there. We finish our conversation and I thank her immensely. Also feeling grateful for my lack of a filter, I head out and hope that my driving does in fact make up for my memory of the past.

Thankfully it does. I do not know if it is the time of day or just luck; but it is the best driving that I have ever done. I move expertly through the lanes and find parking quickly and cheaply. Then I find myself navigating the city as if I am one of its own. I find the bookstore. It is gorgeous with light filtering in as I step through.

I take my time and pursue the shelves. I am inspired to get something for my friends and feel like I will pull something random for myself. The place is massive and I follow its pathing intently. I find that it focuses on art and all walks of life as well. It is a place that encourages connection and development. This place seems like it would be my heaven.

With all of my purchases, I head to check out. There I spy it: the help wanted sign! I do ask about it and the cashier fields out a few questions. Nothing immediate and it may only be temporary, but pays well for the hours and where I would be working. We make a plan to talk more later on. Bag in hand, I find myself outside again wondering what my end plan here is. Unable or unwilling to figure it out, I do make a plan for lunch. Sushi!

I order quickly and get it to go. Standing outside as I wait, I do drift off on what my plan is exactly. I have now had two conversations about living in a state that I do not currently reside in. A state that for some reason has always seemed like a dream only. When I bring thought and logic to it, it seems both crazy and also begs, Why not? As I am lost in thought when they bring my order out and ask a simple question, “Do you want us to open your soda bottle now or would you just like to wait until you are home?”

I jerk my head up, and blurt out that I’ll do it at home. Before I realize what I have said, I have the bag and am heading back to my car. Now marveling at my choices and maybe reading too much into it, I see something else close to my heart: roadside book donations. Knowing again that I might be reading too much into the signs, I take out my finished book and add it to the pile.

I can still decide what my future looks like and what dreams are possible or not. I also can choose what I hold onto from the past and what I hold myself to. So now I am choosing to let go of the standards that I could never reach and taking a look at the dreams that might actually be possible. I also am choosing to remember the past that supports me and the love that I have experienced rather than focusing on how we could have been better. It is more important to focus on the person I am becoming today.