Death is always present as part of life, a fact that most of us have accepted to some degree or another. I still miss my grandfather deeply, I think of him almost every day. I took down my wall calendar a few days ago and started copying out high and low tides. Growing up, my family would all go to Emerald Isle on the North Carolina coast for a week every summer. Towards the beginning of that week, my grandfather would sit down and copy out tables of the tides. It felt so soothing to replicate that effort; I think I’m going to continue to do so. It’s the little rituals that help us keep our sanity.
A former boss’ wife died the end of August, and he texted me about the wake and funeral. Then at my current job, my mentor’s grandmother died, and that’s taking him away from work for a while. Hearing both of these affected me quite a bit; more than one would think given my arm’s length distance from the deceased. I think mortality just got shoved in my face and it hurt to become reacquainted with it.
I’ve just been in a gloomy mood of late, I suppose. Life has been pretty great, so I’m also a bit torn about feeling so down. I should be happy! I should be dancing! But then all I want to do is crawl in bed and stare out the window. I really haven’t done much for a while.
But back on Labor Day Matt and I drove up to Point Reyes, which was quite pretty. It didn’t end up being quite the adventure that we had hoped for — apparently dogs aren’t allowed on trails in National Parks (or National Seashores), so we had to stick to one of a few beaches that dogs were allowed on. It still ended up being a wonderful day, as the beach went on for a long way so we still got something of a hike in.
A girl and her pal at a National Seashore