The old BoyzIIMen song plays in my mind this morning as I prepare to leave my favorite place. Goodbye is too strong of a word since I plan to be back, hopefully several times, over the next few months. It doesn’t make the parting any easier.
Have you ever been in a place that you didn’t want to leave? Whether it was a place or a situation, or maybe even a person, you just wanted one more day. As I sit out on the porch of my motel room, looking at the fog as it sits down upon the ocean, I feel this overwhelming melancholy. I don’t want to leave. I want to stomp my feet and cry like a spoiled child.
I’ve come to the conclusion that the ocean is a natural sedative. It calms anxiety and makes me feel like I am where I belong. When I cross into the Gulf County line on my way into town, I breathe a sigh of relief. As much as I would love to have a castle on the beach, I would be happy with a little hut in the country. I just want to be close enough to this place that I can drive to the water and sit if I want.
I would join the Sea Turtle Patrol and protect their little nests. I would educate the public on why it’s so important to protect the species. Turtles play an important role in the ecosystem and their disappearance could spell doom for the critical coral reefs, as well as other marine life. We all know what happens when a domino effect is initiated. I don’t want to see that happening, especially not to the precious ocean with all of its inhabitants.
What I’ve decided that I want for my life is to live in abundant peace and happiness. I feel most at peace when I am here. It’s not just the excitement of being at the beach and enjoying the cliche beach life. It’s a craving for the salt air and the sense of belonging in this community that I feel every time I visit. I’ve not always felt like I belonged in the communities that I’ve lived. Perhaps they felt more like stopping points on my journey to my real home.
For now, I have to say goodbye. I have to use the photos of this place as a temporary substitute for the real thing. Photos have no scent, and I certainly can’t breathe in the salt air from them. Surely, they will hold me until I can make another trip to my real home. Goodbye comes too soon for me now. I need to be packing but instead I’m trying to tell the ocean my last goodbyes. I’m whispering the promise of my return, and praying it is sooner than later. Farewell for now, Gulf County. But soon, I’ll call you home and a goodbye won’t be necessary.
Messpot Diaries 