Waves of Healing

One of the many places my mom and I loved to go together, the cliffs above New Brighton State Beach just south of Santa Cruz. Photo: Shanti Nelson

I’m standing at the edge of a cliff, high above the ocean just south of Santa Cruz in the late afternoon sun.

My mom and I used to stand at this very spot, drinking coffee and scanning the kelp dotted Pacific for otters, dolphins, and migrating whales. I miss her. It’s been almost 15 years since she passed away and I still get teary-eyed every time I retrace the steps of our beloved outings, we had so many. She adored the ocean like I do and always told me how healing it is, poignant words of maternal wisdom as I stand here today, alone and still struggling with her loss. Back then, as we’d joyously sit atop our clifftop perch, I couldn’t have ever imagined the immense waves of sadness I’d feel one day standing here without her, staring into the milk glass green of the cove below, searching for sea creatures and drinking coffee. I imagine her standing next to me and I wonder if she was right, is this healing? Or better yet, am I healing? Do we ever really heal from the loss of those we love so dearly?