the first ornament on the tree: the world

time moves differently at the beach. time to reflect. time to mourn. time to make new experiences (as painful as they may be). time to find Owen’s name etched prominently in the pier. time to smile.

It’s fitting (perhaps cruelly) that the 1st night of our 1st trip away to the beach as a trio falls on a full moon. Owen loved the beach and had an intimate fascination with the moon. I recall a trip to Hilton Head in 2007. There was a giant full moon. Owen was just learning to talk. As we approached the beach that evening after a late dinner, I recall him repeating, “the moon, daddy…the moon, daddy.” At one point he raced toward the water in an effort to actually reach it. Obviously, that event left an impression.

Being at the beach is hard…and cathartic. And, it’s a reminder of the beauty of life. A Pittsburgh writer says something quite elegant about recognizing this beauty:

“The answer must be, I think, that beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will or sense them. The least we can do is try to be there.”

-Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

I choose to find beauty and depth and warmth in the light of the full moon tonight.

My best friend growing up was Vince Scanlon. He moved in down the street when we were going into the 1st grade. We’re still friends (even though we have lived several hundred miles away for the better part of our lives). There is something special about the bond you forge with your first best friend.

Owen’s best friend was Mareena. She lives across the street. She misses him terribly. She spent her summer and early autumn hosting lemonade stands and assorted sales in front of her house. Her efforts netted $21 for Owen’s Fund.