The Shell

The sun rose early that morning, so I guess that’s why it felt wrong to be in bed. For some reason when the sun is up, I’m up, and this day was no different. There’s something about staring at the horizon as the sun meets the shore, and pondering life’s mysteries and impermanence. The sound of the waves and the timing of the tides remind me so much of my father, and his love for the ocean. He loved to surf, and spent most of his lifetime travelling the world to ride the waves. We moved a lot from the time I was born, until I was around 15 or 16. It was always just me and him, doing our best to get by with whatever we had, even if it was just each other's company. Whenever we would move to a new place, we would go on one of his “treasure hunts”, to explore our new town. Each of us would bring back three of our favorite treasures, and give them to each other. After the move from Santa Monica, I was the angriest I had ever been at him. He had promised it would be the last move, and I had already made so many friendships from just being around town, exploring, and working at this popular boardwalk restaurant Angel’s. I decided I would boycott his dumb treasure hunt that time, and ignored every attempt he made at reconciliation. That same night he knocked on my door and I turned over on the side facing away from the door, pretending to be sleeping. I heard him creep in and place something on my bedside table, but I maintained my position in hopes that he would just leave me alone. I heard the click of the door shut, and the light from the hallway minimize to just a small stream of light underneath the door. I quickly turned over onto my other side and looked at what he had left me. Even through the dark, I could see the most beautiful shell I had ever laid eyes on glistening. I noticed something engraved in it and pulled it closer to me. It was my name. I’m not a particularly emotional individual, but this gesture made me tear up. Next to the shell was a note, which read, “To my favorite girl, know I will always love you the most”. I broke down after that. All of my emotions emerged and I felt such guilt for hating him, when I knew that he was only following his passion. That was the most important thing he instilled in me, and I carry that with me. I will always follow my passions and pursue my dreams because we are only given one life, and there are only so many opportunities and chances that we have to take. While my father’s love for riding rip currents spanned across the globe, he always made sure I knew no universe could exist that would ever be able to contain his love for me. I loved him just as much. He never complained and on his worst days would always remind me to cherish the gift of life.