The Taste of a Tear

“Mom, take hold of my hand, we’re going for a walk if you’re ready. I’m so glad you came with us. It’s just a short walk, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

“Why are your hands so dry and rough?” Mom said. “Are you drinking enough water and moisturizing?”

“Mom, I’m fine,” Joanie replied. “Remember, let me guide you and take your time.”

“I know, I know. I’m blind not stupid.”

“Sorry, I’m just overly excited. Let’s go!”

Joanie guided her mom to the elevator and down to the ground floor. They turned right and walked toward the main door, which lead them past the swimming pools and onto the wooden pedestrian walkway. At the end of the walkway, there was a set of ten steps. They took their time descending the stairs.

“It’s chilly and feels dark,” Mom said.

“Yes, it’s just before dawn. I want to stop here so we can kick off our shoes.”

“I smell it.”

“What’s that, mom?” Joanie begged.

“The beach, I smell the beach.”

Joanie could see her mom tearing up, but she carried on the conversation. “It’s the beach, yes. Let’s get your shoes off.”

Her mom stepped into the soft and chilly sand – and then she kneeled with the help of Joanie and put her hand into the sand. She spread the sand around and onto her feet – and lifted her hand up to let the sand fall through her fingers.

“Let’s go a little further and we’ll have a seat.”

Mom choked up and said, “I hear the waves. It feels so peaceful. It must be low tide the waves seem distant.”

“I’ll help you down, mom. Are you cold?”

“No, no. I’m fine. I’ve missed the beach. It’s been a long time.”

“Yes, mom – too long. I’m going to close my eyes. It’s almost time for the sun.”

Moments later, the sun peaked above the horizon and rays of sunshine scattered across the beach. “I feel it,” Mom blurted. “I feel the sun on my left side. It feels so good. Can you feel it?”

“Yes, it feels like a warming blanket.”

“Joanie, I can almost see the morning colors – I mean I feel like I can see them.”

“Me too, mom. Me too. I could do this every day.”

“You should, you should move here and do it every day.”

“That day will come.”

The sun soon became fully exposed, and the temperature began to rise slightly. The chatter of people became more apparent, and the beach began to slowly fill with morning walkers, runners, shell hunters, and metal scavengers. There wasn’t a cloud and the waves – while small – continued their rhythmic crashing. The distant water was still and calm.

Joanie opened her eyes and turned toward her mom. She felt good about bringing her to the beach and felt her mom needed it.

“Stop staring at me, I feel you staring.”

“Sorry, it’s just nice to see you happy.”

“I’m happy most times, but this makes me feel good.”

“I’m glad. Remember the last time we were all here?” Joanie asked.

“I do, yes. We had fun. The grandkids were all very small. You know your father’s been gone for more than ten years already?”

“Yes, mom. I think of that frequently. He’d love to be here now, I’m certain.”

“He’s here…don’t worry,” Mom replied.

It had been some twenty years since the last time the extended family spent a week at the beach. The beach hadn’t changed, but almost everyone and everything in their lives had. The moment for Joanie and her mom was priceless and memorable. There were some new and updated beachfront condos and houses and restaurants, but the sun still rose, the waves still crashed, the sand was still sand, the beach people were still strangers, and one could still fashion a good sunburn.

“Remember your father’s farmer tan?” Mom laughed.

“Sure do, and he always wore a white t-shirt, plaid shorts, and dark socks with sandals. It seemed like he always did anyway.”

“Don’t forget the ballcap.”

They both laughed and leaned their heads together. They were at a different time in their lives, but everything seemed to melt away, bringing them comfort. They’d only been on the beach for less than an hour yet had filled their souls with joy.

“Remember how the guys always had a rum and pineapple juice every day? It almost became a ritual. My husband – to this day – always has one when we’re here. I think in memory of dad.”

“I remember the taste – more rum than pineapple juice.”

“No doubt,” Joanie laughed.

“I’m ready to go back in and get some coffee,” Mom encouraged.

“Sure.”

As they made their way back to the condo, Joanie was reminded of her fondest beach memory of her parents. “My fondest memory of you and dad was when you’d walk along the beach holding hands.”

Her mom couldn’t hold back her tears and broke down. Joanie stopped walking and held onto her mom. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

“It’s not that, it’s a great memory and I’m glad you have it to cherish.”

Tears were streaming down her mom’s face and dripping from her lips. Joanie did her best to wipe them away, but it was futile.

Mom continued, “It’s been a long time since I’ve tasted a tear. I’d forgotten how salty. It’s like getting hit in the face by an ocean wave. The salty kind.”

They finished out their vacation and returned home to the grandness of their northern state. Life continued as it normally did. There were holidays, birthdays, and a couple graduations. Everyone got through flu season mostly unscathed, but Joanie’s mom had developed a persistent cough. It continued to get worse, but mostly during the spring allergy season.

Following the last graduation party and just weeks before the family was to leave for the beach, mom collapsed on her living room floor and was rushed to the hospital where she remained unconscious and in ICU. Her prognosis wasn’t good, but the family remained optimistic. Their family, including extended family, visited the hospital many times over the course of the first week.

Joanie did a decent job holding herself together through the week but had begun to lose hope little by little. She’d become a shell of herself. She hadn’t been eating well, and she hadn’t slept at all and had become numb to the sounds in the hospital and night and day seemed to blend together. She’d begun to consider letting her mom go but couldn’t think straight and was tortured in her own thoughts.

She took her mom’s hand and talked to her about the beach, including their last visit. Soon, the memory of her parents walking along the beach resurfaced – and she tasted her tears.