careless contemplation: The Cruise

Years ago, while on vacation with family in Daytona Beach, I was taking an early-morning run through the sand. I might have been fourteen years old. I stopped and stared out at the ocean; the waves coming in and washing up on the sand; a clear view into the infinite horizon. I was mystified by the immensity and I felt a sense of wholeness where I had long felt so empty. I didn’t have a clear picture of who I wanted to be to that point or what I wanted to do with my life, not even with that school year. But I dreamt of having a beach house where I could walk out into the warmth of the Florida sunshine and where I might sit out on a deck and make my life as a writer.

That was years ago and it really was a dream, never to be realized in the daylight. I have worked many jobs and never regretted having the opportunities I’ve had or the life that I have happened into. Living nearer to the ocean has afforded me many occasions to visit local beaches. But, as happens with so many things, I have taken for granted the great beauty and mystery.

Terri and Valeria, beach in Honduras

A few weeks ago, over Christmas vacation, we joined my mother, my siblings and my nieces and nephew on a cruise ship, visiting Mexico, Belize and Honduras. I had few preconceptions about the trip. I thought very little of the places we’d visit or what the ship might be like. I was focused on making the trip a wonderful, fun and liberating experience for Valeria. It was that and more! Valeria dreams of being on stage. It was wondrous to watch her singing Karaoke with her cousin Talia (who I have fond memories of when she was at that tender age.) Valeria bathed in the attention and worship of all of those in our party. She returned the admiration in kind and it was touching for me to observe her realizing the gift of family.

Our days were full with shore excursions, food, dancing, food, music, magic, horseback riding, swimming, food and more food. During a brief repose, I sat on the balcony outside our cabin. Like when I was a boy, I watched the sun glisten off the wide and worthy ocean. I could see no end; no end to the water that surrounded us, no end to the love that we were sharing and no end to the generations that would follow us in our faith. I saw my dad out there, no longer a human image, but part of the infinite glory provided by our scenic escape. He was there with us, as he is always. Sensing his presence renewed me in my journey as a father. Valeria will know him only through me and I will continue to give the best of him to her.

Abbey and Valeria, on our way back from the beach in Roatan, Honduras

Thank you Mom for a wonderful week. Thank you for making it possible and bringing us together. I know it is as hard for you as it is for any of us to be so far apart. Like always, it was hard to leave. Now we are back to our own day to day lives in different states, but family stays front of mind. You built this family, Mom, from a love that you shared with Dad and from your genuine faith and generosity.

Top-Cousins:Talia, Valeria, Abby and Robert Bottom-Amada, Valeria and me.

Valeria, watching you, so completely out and free was the highlight of the trip (for all of us, I think.) You have had a tough year. Your sense of safety has been disturbed and I yearn for it to be returned to you. We will get there. Our sustained hope will be what saves us all. It was hope on that ship. It was family. It was safety, even amid the turbulent waves. It was love. You will endure the turbulence of a sinful world. You continue to display the spirit that I saw in you the first time I held you. You are strong and bright and creative. You make your way every day, insisting on blooming as the raindrops drip from your petals. I want to be like you!