Three long years since I heard you speak to me. I miss you so much Dad.
It feels like three years since I've posted last. It wasn't until recently when a friend suggested I pick this back up that I decided to try writing again. I recently spent the weekend at that special place out in Pacific Beach. This photo of my Dad on the jetty, here dubbed "you are my sanity". Well, at least, that's what I called it at the time. It was on that weekend, on that beach, on that jetty...the last real memory of being on vacation with my Dad and taking that long walk with him. So I revisited the same place we all stayed in, Bob's Pacific Beach House. Beautiful home. Drank lots of wine, turned on the fire, and reflected on the memories of a great man. I'm sure the wine didn't help hold back the tears, but it felt good to get that emotion out again. I love that place. This place that photo's cannot do justice, you have to witness it's beauty with your own eyes to fully appreciate it. The drive in feels like you are in a dream. The beach stretches as far as the horizon. Clammers gather in flocks when the season is right. Beach combers gather every morning attempting to find a new treasure that the ocean brought to shore over night.
The first two days yielded a glorious sunshine, but where this place really shows it's beauty in these eyes is when that morning mist rolls in. I remember getting up out of bed just to go sit on the deck with a bowl of cereal, listening to the silence of the morning, watching the waves roll one after the other, taking in that clear Pacific air. Looking down on that beach, I see my Dad and I walking. I wish I could give him that feeling again. That feeling of wet sand between the toes....running from a swift rush of seawater that crept up on you. Climbing up on that jetty and taking in the power of mother nature with the each crashing wave.
It was a weekend filled with emotion, sadness, and solitude. I wish you were there with me.
I miss you Dad.
