Isak Dinesen once wrote, "THE CURE FOR ANYTHING IS SALT WATER: SWEAT, TEARS, OR THE SEA.
I am in need of a cure and lately the sweat creating workouts aren't coming the way they used to, and tears...well, when my niece arrived, the crying stopped. It turned out that my crying disturbed her, so I stopped. Now, I try to cry, I need to cry, I have much emotion to purge, but the crying has stopped, despite my desire to sob a big sloppy one. I feel the urge often, I've lost so much in the past ten years and have much to cry about, but the urge is like the itch before the sneeze that then passes.

The opportunity came, via my husband's job, for us to travel to the Gulf Coast of Florida and I jumped at the chance. I have not been to the ocean's edge for 3 years and am in great need to feel and sync with the rhythm of the tide. In our planning we had much difficulty securing a place to stay, for whatever reason, everything was booked. Finally, after tweaking our dates, we have a plan! The plan, I'm certain was put in place especially for me, by powers of Grace.

This trip to the shore has come at a great time of need for me and my grief. I have understanding and realization now of the sequence of the events leading up to this trip, the necessity for it, and the Providence behind it. Let me explain, in February of 2009, I wrote the following down in my journal about a dream I had of my deceased sister. My sister, if you have been following along you know, was murdered by her boyfriend ten years ago this week. This is what is written in my journal, a premonition of sorts, or perhaps it was more of a subconscious request of mine made 8 months ago:

I dreamed what felt like more of a vision than a dream, that on the night my sister was killed by that man, I was there to help create a different future for both of us. I walked into her room, and without the need for words or one spoken sound, led her by the hand out of the apartment and away from him. We stood out in the street together looking into each others eyes with a knowing. The next time we were together was the present moment. I travelled to her home which set on a beautiful white sanded beach. When she answered the door, this time she took my hand and led me into her home where we sat together for hours just holding each other. The next day we walked hand in hand along the beach, walking where the ocean meets the sand, giggling and flirting with the waves. We laughed and smiled, we sat and talked, we were happy, and time and death had no place in our thoughts. We were together. She was alive, vibrant, and happy. Thoughts of this dream does bring tears to my eyes, happy ones. And I KNOW that she lives somewhere on a beautiful beach awaiting my visit.

I'm making that visit. I hope she joins me in spirit and blesses my broken heart and tormented soul with the same peace I feel when I recall that dream, that vision I had of her and her laughing light.

--Victoria Hart http://auntievlifeandcookery.blogspot.com/
Painting: Robert St. John http://rstjohnstudio.com/girls_on_beach.htm