On The Beach
I buried a book in the sand.
While I was taking my daily walk on the beach last summer I found a book lying in the sand and took a photo. I kept wondering who forgot the book and whether they would miss it. The next day I was happy to see the book again and took another picture but the third day the book was missing and I felt a certain sense of sadness and loss. I was hoping to find it somewhere in the sand but it was gone.
I went home and thought about the book, someone did take it away thinking it was trash... did the owner come back to claim the book or had the ebb and flow claimed the book? I thought to myself, what if I buried a book in the sand and every day came to see it and unburying it again and again for one full year. What book to bury was difficult. I finally came up with an idea; a thesaurus! My father was diagnosed with dementia and little by little he was losing words and things but he was constantly finding new plants everywhere for his garden. Wherever he went, he would take a plant to replant in his vegetable garden, if he could not find a real plant, he would get a fake colorful one to give color to the garden. Stealing or borrowing plants was a common practice for him, the neighbors were not pleased. I wondered, what if loss of one thing replaces itself with planting something else. Burying something must mean replacement or finding new things to replace what was lost. My father marks his calendar every day so as not to forget the time, days, month, and years; mundane routines and habits become monumental in his daily life. The strain of being present and guiding my father through these difficult times has been a very stressful experience for me. This experience has helped me see how everyday routines and habits become a way of living our lives and how everyday habits mark or time on earth. I decided to find words of my own buried in the sand. I walk to distress and look for my buried treasure and find new words that nourish my soul on the constantly changing beach.
While I was taking my daily walk on the beach last summer I found a book lying in the sand and took a photo. I kept wondering who forgot the book and whether they would miss it. The next day I was happy to see the book again and took another picture but the third day the book was missing and I felt a certain sense of sadness and loss. I was hoping to find it somewhere in the sand but it was gone.
I went home and thought about the book, someone did take it away thinking it was trash... did the owner come back to claim the book or had the ebb and flow claimed the book? I thought to myself, what if I buried a book in the sand and every day came to see it and unburying it again and again for one full year. What book to bury was difficult. I finally came up with an idea; a thesaurus! My father was diagnosed with dementia and little by little he was losing words and things but he was constantly finding new plants everywhere for his garden. Wherever he went, he would take a plant to replant in his vegetable garden, if he could not find a real plant, he would get a fake colorful one to give color to the garden. Stealing or borrowing plants was a common practice for him, the neighbors were not pleased. I wondered, what if loss of one thing replaces itself with planting something else. Burying something must mean replacement or finding new things to replace what was lost. My father marks his calendar every day so as not to forget the time, days, month, and years; mundane routines and habits become monumental in his daily life. The strain of being present and guiding my father through these difficult times has been a very stressful experience for me. This experience has helped me see how everyday routines and habits become a way of living our lives and how everyday habits mark or time on earth. I decided to find words of my own buried in the sand. I walk to distress and look for my buried treasure and find new words that nourish my soul on the constantly changing beach.
