Recently, when on a trip together, my father told me a story. It was a trip to the ocean and as we looked out at the sea together he started talking. It didn’t seem like he was about to tell me anything significant, he brought coffee from a Styrofoam cup to his mouth and let the coffee go slowly and gently down his throat like he was drinking clouds. He started talking like he would about anything else. He told me that shortly after I first moved to Jacksonville my grandfather called him up. This was of course before my grandfather died. It was mid-March and it was still cold in Pennsylvania. My grandfather had been sick for the last decade, his Parkinson’s had gotten really bad and he’d lost half of his vocal box from a war injury. So I spent my whole life guessing what he was saying. But on this day that my grandfather called my father his voice was strong. “Son, cancel your plans, I need a ride to the ocean this weekend.” My father said that he protested at first, said something about having to work and it still being very cold outside. My grandfather stood firm and said “Call off work, you’re taking me to the ocean this weekend.” So off they went, making the 5-hour trek to the ocean. When they arrived, the first thing they did was drive right to the beach. My father helped my grandfather through the sand; at this point my grandfather was barely walking on his own. But my father said when he got to the water my grandfather stripped down to his underwear and walked into the water without hesitation. He floated in the bitterly cold water. A few times my father got worried, watching his own father’s frail body bobbing up and down in the waves, but my grandfather did just fine, he eventually got out of the water and that was the last time he ever swam in the ocean. He died just weeks later.
I don’t know if there is a point to that story, well, the point to that story is my whole life, but as far as the one I’m telling you. I’ve had a lot of time to think about all the things that happened to me in my early twenties. It changed everything, everyone remembers their first 180 degree turn, this just happened to be mine and it happened over the course of just over a year. I’m the type of person who thinks a lot, I mean who isn’t, but I obsess over every detail of everything, pictures of moments staying with me like moments you understand you won’t forget even before they are done happening. When I imagine my grandfather out there in the huge ocean, engulfed in waves, his tiny body bravely bouncing one by one over the life force of this earth, I think of my family. I think of my life, the stages of my life and I think about when I’m that age, or even just my last swim in the ocean. I wonder what I will think about then and I hope I will have done everything I needed to do, I hope I will have said everything I needed to say and I hope there is someone on the shore, watching, remembering my last swim.
