Martha's Vineyard.

Walking on the beach:

A Fictional Short Story.

Sometimes the hardest thing is to let go. Whether it’s your last love or your father running out on your family, it’s hard to let go. The pain that someone else had caused you to feel can last as long as you let it last.

As a baby I had a fairly normal life. My parents lived together; my mom and my dad both had jobs. Everything was great, so I was told. One morning, when I was seven years old, I woke up to my mother crying. She was sitting at the kitchen counter with a piece of paper in her hand. When I asked her what was wrong she looked down at me, wiped her eyes, and she said she loves me. I didn't want to ask any more questions at that moment so I pretended to start to make my breakfast. She grabbed the piece of paper crumpled it up then threw it away. When she went into her room I grabbed the crumpled up piece of paper, it was a letter from my dad. He was writing a letter to my mom telling her he didn't love her anymore. He said he couldn't be a part of this family. When I got half way through the letter my mom walked back in the kitchen. When I started crying she hugged me and told me she would take care of us and she asked me to trust her.

When I was ten my mom got laid off. When she wasn't looking for a new job we were at the beach. My mom's favorite place was the beach. She would take me there as much as she could. One day we were at the beach and I had asked her if I could work yet, because I wanted to help her. She grabbed a stone from the ground and told me that "as long as there are soft stones on the beach I will love you and there will always be soft stones on the beach." When I begun to ask her what that had to do with money she answer, "Love is the most important thing and love is priceless. I will find a job, you leave our income up to me, enjoy your child hood." She handed me the stone and I put it in my pocket. Months and months had gone by and my mom still didn’t find a job. My mom finally found a job a month before my eleventh birthday and my Uncle John moved in with us to help pay for bills and to help us get back on our feet. Once my mom thought she could handle everything my uncle moved out.

With my mom’s new job we found that there were less and less opportunities to go to the beach. And soon the beach was our last priority. I was 18 and going into college my mother developed pancreatic cancer. I would wake up in the middle of the night because she would be shouting into the phone things like, “We barley have enough money to pay our bills and eat! Is there anything else we could do?”

The next year my mom got really sick, and the doctor said it wasn’t looking so good. My uncle was taking care of me and all I wanted was for my mom to know that she was my hero. On the last day of August I took my mom to the beach. I took the stone out of my pocket, “Mom, the beach will forever be a special place for me; our walks on the beach were more than just a bonding experience for me they were a healing process. They healed my heart; our walks meant the world to me. They are something that I will never forget. Mom you are my hero, you are a shining example of what an adult should do when conflict is brought before them. When I was ten you gave me this stone. You told me that ‘as long as there are soft stones on the beach I will love you and there will always be soft stones on the beach’” I put the stone down “As long the soft stones remain on the beach I will love you to.” My mom smiled and a tear dropped down her cheek.

Two weeks later my mom died. She had wrote a note to me the day before it read,

To my loving daughter,

Our walk two weeks ago our walk was one of the best moments of my life. Everything that I would have liked to hear you said. Thank you for telling me I was not a complete failure. I love you and remember I always will. You’re the best daughter I could have asked for.

Love,

Your mother.

The next day I went back to the beach and sat down. I looked at the waves and listened to the seagulls. Then I remembered the rock. I wonder if it was still there. I walked back to where I put the rock and a tear started making its way down my cheek. And the smooth stone was right where they left it on the beach.