Beauty Tips for the Bereaved

1 Sep


When it’s all over, they stand together at the edge of the ocean.  The mother’s arms are locked tight around her daughter, lifting her high just before each wave crashes into them.  She can feel the undertow that sucks the cold sand from beneath her feet, pulling the child’s body away from her.
 “Let’s go out farther, Mommy!” the child shrieks above the thundering sea. “I want to see a shark!”
The mother’s arms tighten reflexively around the little girl’s wet shoulders as the water breathes in and out around them.
“We’re out too far already!” she shouts over the cries of a seagull as it dips and glides in the wind above them. 
They are knocked backward on the shifting sand by the weight of the water, then pulled at the knees, forward and away, by the same force.  Even as she kisses her child’s salty neck, tickling her, she is quietly measuring their distance from the shore, careful not to slip backwards or let or let the tide whisk them out to sea.
 “Mommy here comes a big one!  Lift me up!” says the girl, and jumps into her mother’s embrace.
The water crushes into them, knocking them off balance as it frizzles and swirls towards the beach.  Before they retreat to shore the mother leans down, holding the girl tight. 
She cannot see her father’s ghost anymore, but somehow he is still there. ‘I have survived an unforgettable experience,” she thinks, smiling to herself in triumph. ‘Thank you, Dad.’
She will teach her daughter to find the strength inside of herself, to move through the world, and conquer her own fears.
“Do you feel that?”
The current under the moving waves is even stronger than before.  The girl stares into the great, loud chaos of the sea and nods.
“That is power.”
The girl understands, even if everyone else doesn’t   Her mother always talks this way.  The mother kisses her daughter’s cheek, tasting salt.
“That is you.”

 Free Download until Midnight September 1st:  Beauty Tips For the Bereaved

(I’m sure it’s for a good cause … or something like that.)



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