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A Walk on The Beach / A Daughter's Memory

The last time I walked the beach with my mom was a sunny summer day in Maine. It was never easy to get her to leave the ironing, shopping, dinner planning, and the ever-present risk of the dryer spontaneously catching fire. But somehow, that day, she'd said yes. We packed a lunch, a blanket, and not much else, and drove 45 minutes so we could walk the beach at Reid State Park. I didn't know it would be the last time.

I remember the wild waves and the undertow, the intense search for sand dollars, noticing how our footprints curved back and forth into the distance behind us. I remember trying to lure seagulls and then scaring them away. I know we talked; we always did, but I don't remember what we talked about. There probably wasn't even a single topic, just the easy back and forth that always held the hours together, gently.

A joke, a memory, a complaint, gossip we'd easily move from one topic to the next. We shared so many threads memories, family, TV shows, anxieties, ways of looking at the world. We never ran out of things to say. When I remember our conversations though, I can't recall ideas or words, but settings. Riding in the car, sitting on the kitchen counter watching her mix cookie dough and waiting for the bowl, standing near the sink watching her peel carrots and push the orange curls into the sink, or walking the beach and looking for shells. For one of those places and one of those conversations just one I'd give most anything.

The walk at Reid State Park was almost a decade ago. It wasn't literally our last walk; we took many walks in her years at Safe Havens Dementia Unit, but things grew more and more confusing and the conversation skipped and slowed. This week, I told her about my memories of this walk on the beach, minutes before she passed away. My hope is that she could hear the waves, feel the salty air on her cheeks, and remember the easy moments together as she moved on.

I believe mom would rather have had many more walks with me. And I believe she hoped that the time will soon be here when others won't have to face her difficult journey. We celebrate her life and cherish what she gave us. Thank you for the gift in her memory.