Between the Waves

The beach I am strolling is the last place I remember walking with my sister, Trish; the last place she could walk without support before her declining mobility claimed her legs. That was a good day on the Oregon coast. The sun burned away morning fog allowing light to paint streaks of white on the peak of each wave. The long, flat shoreline received the sea and gently offered it to us; ripples teasing our toes and sending shivers up our spines. We looked for agates and shells, and took photos of the geological stacks; beach sentinels disguised as rock formations.

I am now standing on that same beach, facing the horizon, gazing beyond the vast expanse of sea and undulating swells. I feel memories of Trish wash over me. Her death only four days ago appears like a mirage hovering over an unending ocean. Her corporeal self is now gone to my experience, though the memory of her smile and her subtle presence is alive in each wave of emotion. I offer prayers and gather some stones, shells, and a feather, to place on the shrine Trish’s husband, Randy, lovingly created to send her on her way.

I am now the last person alive in my close biological relationships, and a melancholy settles upon me—like a setting sun slowly disappearing below the horizon. It’s a strange feeling; a finality, with an embracing vastness. Although I’m heartened knowing my sister’s pain no longer causes her suffering, the space left by the loss of her physical presence will never be filled. I now join the ranks of all those who have outlived their family.

My Buddhist teachers would probably note that I now have fewer karmic family links, and that affords a freedom of sorts; fewer lines of relationship needing attention. I’m aware of that truth floating on the melancholy of this moment. Nevertheless, something has paused, like the fleeting stillness between rising and falling waves in front of me. Merging my tears with the salty brine and the tears of numberless beings experiencing grief, I ride the crest of my loss—knowing this bittersweet wave will inevitably surrender to the shore.