I love living where I can drive to the ocean. I find life is so much clearer there. The ocean brings the me out and I can appreciate who I am, because I’m exactly where I want to be.
I’ve often wondered, why? What is it about the ocean? Is it because all I see for miles is ocean meeting sky? Or the sound the waves make as they chase each other up the beach? Or maybe it’s the tangy smell of brine and seaweed. I think it’s all of that —-all mixing together that allows life to make more sense there.
Last summer, I went to the ocean on my birthday and I suddenly realized how old I am. I haven't ever been this old before. I decided before I die, I’m going to do things I have mostly ignored. I haven't smelled all the flowers yet and there are hot fudge sundaes my diet hasn’t allowed. I want to have some of those every once in a while; I haven’t laughed at all the jokes, or cried at all the movies, and I've really missed potato chips with a coke.
I want to wade in more puddles, feel the ocean spray on my face, and I’m going to say, “I love you” more to Robert and my girls; I want peanut butter every morning on my toast and more phone calls to and from my kids and grandchildren. I want to walk more in the rain, and sometimes, I’m going to have dessert instead of dinner, and if I die before I wake up, I'll die happy, because I didn’t miss out on anything.
I’m going to live well, love much, and laugh often. I’ll be happy, because happiness isn't about what I have. It's about those I love and respect ... including me.
Money may talk, but love and a hot fudge sundae sing ...
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