As I walk to the water
through the soft warm sand,
I reach the shore
and the water laps at my feet,
burying my toes.
The sun warms my skin
and feels like a long and much-needed hug.
My mind started playing tricks on me
as I looked out at the horizon.
Photo by Tim Foster on Unsplash
Soft words in a deep voice envelope me,
with my giggles as a little girl clinging to her Papi, wearing swim trunks and a white undershirt.
He never cared for the water but took pleasure as I enjoyed soaking in the sun and splashing around in his arms.
Photo by Jakob Owens on Unsplash
As a woman, I watch the waves and miss my Papi.
Strolling the shore,
I see the billows of white when the waves crash,
and think of everything that has passed since that day.
As that afternoon came to an end,
we left the water,
my big family enjoying this rare gathering
that would not happen often enough.
Papi looked out and smiled at the water,
a bit of sadness and a bit of joy.
He loved spending time with my sister and me that day but did not like the ocean calling him back to what he considered home as a child.
As a woman, I watch as the tides come in
and wonder if I have never loved the water as an adult
because it reminds me of a time that is long gone.
As I take a deep breath,
I smell the salt
and feel the thickness of the air through my nose
and into my lungs.
The sounds of the birds
and the ocean saying goodbye
as I turn away and leave,
never wanting to return.
Isabel Natera 