Turning right to Lighthouse Street, I found the perfect parking spot. As I opened the door, I breathed in the fresh sea salt air. I took several deep breaths so that the ocean air could live in my lungs. Images of the beach front cottages and homes from my girlhood days swirled in my head. Smiling, I strolled toward the beach.
Walking on the soft, deep sand, I approached the Pacific Ocean. Overcast and a bit chilly, there were very few beach-goers today…I had the expanse to myself. White and blue-green waves crashed gently against the beach. At times, the water’s speed and intensity picked up and the waves roared. Yet instead of scaring me, those sounds comforted me.
Someone skippered my favorite type of sailboat – complete with a jib and mainsail. The skipper skillfully guided the boat so it glided easily north and then west, out into the ocean.
Another boat crossed the horizon close to the beach. It seemed to carry several people. Perhaps the travelers headed out for a fishing excursion. This reminded me of Dad – he took us out on the Long Island Sound during summers in Branford, CT.
The smooth sand, crisp ocean air, and serenity of the sea calmed me. I stood watching the waves, listening to the sounds. The beach drew me down, directly on the sand – the softest seat I could have had. I sang my favorite psalm (121) to Hashem (G-d).
Esah ainei el hei’harim mei’ayin yavo ezree. (I raise my eyes upon the mountains, from where my help will come.)
Ezree mei’im Hashem, oseh shomayim va’aretz. (My help is from Hashem, Maker of heaven and earth.)
Hashem, please comfort me.
Hashem, please guide my Dad, Yoel Meir ben Simcha, on his special journey.