Rebirth
Excerpt from I Know This Much Is True
Epilogue
I stand on the shoreline, my mind meeting my feet in a literal and ethereal space of liminality. The warm water kisses my toes, and I take in a deep breath of the briny air. The ocean is my home, and it’s here, on the precipice between the soft yet sturdy sand and the deep vast unknown of the salt water, that I must make my choice once and for all.
To my left and my right are the two strongest women I’ve ever known: Jennifer to my right, and my daughter to my left. I look in my daughter’s chocolate eyes and a small smile crosses her plush mouth. Jennifer reaches out and places her hand on my shoulder, her ever-present serenity passing through me as she inhales the air. A breeze passes over us, and I look behind me.
My mother, the one who brought me life, stands in the middle. Deep down, she knows why she is here, but that knowing hasn’t reached her conscious mind. Next to her stands my dearest friend, Peggy. She knows, she knows. Our souls have been connected since the dawn of time, all of us. To the other side of my mother is my son, my firstborn. He is more evolved than my mother, and his knowing is present, but society and patriarchy are a constant battle for him.
On either side of the people behind me are the spirits of my grandmother and her sister, Gail, my great-aunt. Gail moves from her place to stand next to my grandmother, and reaches for her hand.
I turn back around to face the ocean.
So many choices I’ve made in my life, so many paths I’ve taken, mentally, emotionally and corporally. Until now, I’ve always known that if one path was incorrect, I could change the course. It wasn’t always easy. People were hurt, disappointed and sometimes angry, including myself. But I’ve consistently seen that it worked out for the best for everyone involved.
Not this time. This time, there is no win-win. Someone comes out a loser.
My daughter takes my hand in hers. It’s soft and warm, just like the day she was born. Her long fingers interlace in my short, thick ones, from years of doing massage. Helping others “get back to doing what they love” as my slogan was. The breeze pushes her long thick brown hair into my face. It smells sweet and sweaty.
My son steps up between Jennifer and me, and puts his arm around my waist. He’s too tall to put his head on my shoulder, but he tries to, awkwardly.
The only sounds around us are the waves meeting the shoreline, some louder than others. The seagulls float in the sky above us, and the sun begins to lower.
Some choices you can’t undo without causing a ripple effect that turns into a shockwave that destroys everything.
It’s time. I grasp both of my children in my arms, tears streaming down our faces. They know this isn’t the end, and yet, at the same time, it is.
“I love you guys, more than you’ll ever comprehend,” I tell them. “Do good, be good, and be good to YOU first”.
A sob emanates from my throat. I feel it closing, like a golf ball is stuck in it.
I don’t know what is on the other side of this, but it’s the only answer I can find in all the years of questioning. A rebirth of sorts.
I step forward, slowly, into the water. Further out I go, and I force myself not to look back. The water laps around my waist, and I remember when my grandfather would stand with me while the waves tried to knock us over. I remember every year becoming more and more brave, venturing further into the deep waters while my grandmother called me back to shore.
A wave comes from my blindside, and takes me under. I break back through the surface, my bearings lost for a moment. I see the horizon, and another wave from the corner of my eye. I turn to face it.
It takes me deep underwater, where I’m from, where I feel oddly safe. I soften my body and let it do what it will to me.
I am reborn.
