After the gift opening and the Great Food Indulgence (aka brunch), we headed to the beach. On the way down we wondered how the beach would look after the recent storm. Would there be a lot of driftwood? How had the dunes fared? Erosion in past storms had actually revealed military rocket motors and casings from World War 2, when the beach was used for military target practice. We chatted about this and that, wondering aloud what we would find there today.
We arrived to find only a few cars in the parking lot. Nick and Lydia headed off to explore the fort, and Kurt and I wandered on the path toward the beach. Already we saw mounds of debris and driftwood along the path’s edges. We came upon a white-haired man sitting on a bench overlooking the water.
“What a beautiful day!” I said, as we approached him.
“Yes, it is,” he agreed. We exchanged holiday greetings and marveled over the layered debris from the storm. He mentioned how he remembered finding bullet casings on the beach as a kid, and we exclaimed how we’d just been talking about that.
After a few minutes, I gave in to the lure of the beach, the shifting blues and silhouettes, and wandered ahead to take pictures. Kurt stayed to talk.
A while later, Kurt caught up with me.
“Were you talking all that time with that man?” I asked.
“We talked for a while. He sprinkled his mom’s ashes here a few years ago, so he comes here every Christmas day. He told me, ‘I don’t think she can hear me. Probably not. But still I like to come.'”
“Oh, I’m so glad you stayed and talked with him.”
“Yeah. He told me that he had diabetes and that he’d had a heart attack. He talked about not knowing what each day would bring and needing to enjoy the time you have.”
Then Kurt said that as he left to join me, the man apologized, saying to him, “Hey, sorry to talk about such downer stuff.”
“It’s not downer stuff,” Kurt responded, “It’s just life, man.”
I think of that man now, sitting on that bench alone. Of how I wandered on without his story, content to investigate a different one. Of how Kurt stayed to talk, to ask questions, to connect.
I took lots of pictures yesterday. Mostly of sun and sand. Of storm-tossed trees and piles of debris. Even one or two of my family. But of all the images I saw yesterday, it’s the one I didn’t take that is strongest in my mind. That man sitting quietly on the bench, looking out at the water, thinking of life, his challenges, and mostly, remembering his mother.
Later on our walk, we came across another bench. Another story of love and loss. Of remembrance. This time I paused for a little longer, holding my own loved ones, near and far, close in my heart.
The holidays are wrapped in both past and present. Here’s hoping yours were filled with handfuls of love and laughter and seasoned with memories that brought more smiles than tears. Wishing you peace, joy and light as we head into the new year.
Nix the comfort zone 
Wonderful and really thoughtful vignette. Important slice of life, as it were.
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Thank you. There were lots of layers for me on this beach walk.
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What a beautiful post. Here in Cambodia, the war debris is still so dangerous- they have specially trained rats who sniff out mines. Everyone’s story adds texture to our life.
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“Everyone’s story adds texture to our life.” I wish we all understood that truth!
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Such a thoughtful post. When do we stay to hear the story? Kurt connected and probably comforted the grieving man. May we all think about this at this time of year. I also love your photos.
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Kurt is much more likely than I am to strike up a random conversation and make a connection. I love that about him!
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Your lovely holiday piece is unexpected in so many ways, the cold beach, the idea of munitions, the memories people bring. My favorite part of your piece is the idea of the photo we didn’t take. You moved on to take photos that will probably be throw-always in the big picture, or at least they are scenes you have taken many times. Yet the memory of your husband’s conversation with a stranger is what sticks with you. I think ‘the photo I didnt take’ is such a powerful metaphor and in fact a great prompt for writing…
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Thanks so much for your thoughtful comments. I really like the idea of using “the photo I didn’t take” as a writing prompt.
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“The holidays are wrapped in both past and present…… seasoned with memories that brought more smiles than tears.” This is absolutely beautiful! As I read your post, I thought back on two conversations I wish I’d stayed and delved more into during the previous week. We never know someone’s story, and your post is a powerful reminder of this. Thank you for sharing these beautiful moments today!
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Taking the time to ask questions and connect is something I don’t always do, even knowing that we all have a story. I just heard an interview in which a social scientist of some sort interviewed people for 4 hours and simply asked them to tell him their life stories. At the end of the time he handed them a check for their participation, and a large percentage of them pushed the check back to him and thanked him effusively for listening. Everyone wants to be heard.
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“The holidays are wrapped in both past and present.” This quote is copied in my notebook for further musing. Such big truth.
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I wonder if it’s because there’s so much tradition surrounding the holidays, which of course links past and present.
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This is a wonder-filled story. As kim and others have mentioned, that line about holidays is a treasure. As I’ve grown older I don’t mind the holidays as much as I once did. They were not happy times during my childhood and have often been stressful in my adult years. Keeping them simple and focused on time together rather than stuff has made them better. Your slice reminds me how important quiet times during this time are and how so many are alone. Peace and light to you, too. Happy Holidays.
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I’m so glad your holidays bring you more joy now. Simplicity is key and I agree with a focus on time spent together. We’d hoped to eschew gifts this year and share a family experience instead, but couldn’t quite manage some very complicated schedules. Maybe next year! Happy New Year!
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Wait! Popham?!
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Yes!
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Thank you for bringing me back to Maine and to life! Beautiful post! Happy and healthy New Year!
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Thanks for taking the time to visit 🙂 Happy New Year to you as well!
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[…] holidays are steeped in memories. As I wrote in my post on Tuesday, they are wrapped in past and present. In my world, sticky buns are a perfect example of […]
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Merry Merry Molly. My new holiday greeting. Too often I would have done what you did that morning at the beach. Hannah would have played Kurt’s role. It’s a good reminder to me to not be so intent to be active and move and groove. I love this line. “It’s not downer stuff,” Kurt responded, “It’s just life, man.” Well done, Kurt. I have a game recommendation for you all – Blank Slate. We brought it to McDonald’s this morning and played after coffee and biscuits with the two women we were with. It’s boisterous with laughing and fun. Learn to play in two minutes. Your family will love it. I’ll text a picture of it. And second, our daughter Robyn and I both love, loved “The Boys in the Boat.” Run don’t walk to see this inspirational movie.
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I ordered the game and it’s arriving tomorrow. 🙂 Hopefully we’ll get the whole family together again soon to play. Also, thanks for the movie recommendation. I tend to go to a movie every 3-5 years, but I’ll keep it in mind! I’ve heard the book is wonderful — have you read it?
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