Opening the files

Today my brother and his family arrived back from Turks and Caicos-they travel very often, and each time they come back from a trip they bring a little gift from wherever they were. This time my little 8 year old niece chose the gifts-for mom and I.  I appreciate gifts that are personal, and rather inexpensive always-things that really cost nothing. I was truly so happy receiving a small bottle with sand and tiny shells.  She said; ”daddy told me you love shells so I chose this for you”. Guess they all know that sea and I are one.

However, I really do love all season-well, tropical weather is the best. Thus, I have to admit that my favourite place is the ocean-sadly I never had a chance to permanently live there. I collect shells-among other things; my collection is rather large, each one is so very special I can hold it in my hand and imagine how very long ago some have come into being-and wonder about the creature itself.  They are a constant reminder of the mystery and magic of the ocean. I was born this way, or perhaps was some sea creature in the past-who knows. I have shells from all over-the Atlantic, Pacific, Caribbean,  Gulf of Siam and Indian Ocean-places I have visited. They all have a personal story to tell.

I have such wonderful memories of the seas as young teenager. Every year we went to Durban for a holiday-down the Natal coast, by the Indian Ocean during the South African winters, which is in July. I loved those times. Often I would get up very early in the morning-way before the sunrise, walk all by myself down to the beach. There was no crime then, there was nothing to fear though our hotel room was some distance from the ocean. I would sit cross legged by the edge of the water waiting for the sun to come up. There was never a soul around-just the ocean , the sand and I. In that area, the waves are huge, they crash and roll in at an awesome pace. I was simply mesmerized by it always-could watch them forever. I can still hear the thundering sound. It is not a quiet ocean at all, the Indian Ocean is rather wild and dangerous beast.

Some great memories were made in Trinidad and Tobago also-where I went a number of times to visit a wonderful “souls mate”.  The ocean is very different there -it is like glass, at times turquoise blue, at times aquamarine from all the coral-and and very gentle and still. Like a beautiful Venetian glass mirror and the sand is almost like snow. Once I took my brother and daughter-she was 10, he was 14 and we went to Tobago for the day-and we went out in a boat, passing Pigeon Point. The view was spectacular-all the awesome with palm forest on the beach-all looking like a painting of Eden. My brother was looking and staring at the island for some time-and suddenly he said: :”this has to be paradise”. I shall never forget his statement-remember he was just 14. Guess he was right.

The first time I went to Tobago-I picked up a huge driftwood-my friend asked :”how will you take this huge thing back to Canada?” I did in a black plastic garbage bag-and it still sitting on top of my cupboard. The driftwood is still here, and my dear friend is gone forever. Funny this life-we are always so worried about losing our stuff, yet stuff outlives us, and friends  leave us.

Reminders are so important-for if we do not remember-all is lost. Thus-I suggest-collect things-especially when you are having happy times; big or small they are the keys to remembrance.  Nothing stays-all leaves us except what we have in our hearts, but often it is filed away-thus one needs keys to open the files.