I stand watching the little children play , some clinging on to their parents while standing in knee deep water while the waves lap against the shore.
The laughter of the kids reminds me of being a kid and coming to the beach every Sunday with my dad and sister for a swim. I remember being a terrified kid and refusing to get into the water because I had this insane fear of drowning. Years later, not much has changed, I still face the same fears.
I always make a few trips to the beach when I am visiting my parents, which is what I’m doing right now. There is something about strolling on the beach with my feet digging into the warm sand, the salty wind tousling my hair and drying up the beads of sweat from the warm humid weather.
Just standing watching the waves does something to my mind. Its nostalgic and takes me down memory lane as to how many years later I still have the same fears. Even though I can swim, the ocean scares me or at least the thought of swimming in the ocean scares me. I always have this idea that I must have had a terrifying experience when I was kid which is buried deep inside and hence my fear of swimming in the sea.
Despite the fact that I don’t venture out to swim, I sit and stare at the water for hours and wish my thoughts and troubles could wash away with each wave.
The beach is my sanctuary when I am visiting my parents. I use this time to think about my parents and how sad and upset I am to see them withering away with age. I never want to show them my fear or losing them. I constantly put on this brave front not wanting them to be upset by my fear. I come to the beach in search of the solitude and most often during my wondering thoughts I find tears streaming down my face.
Putting on a brave face is tough, trying not to break down in front of them even harder. Even when they test my patience and I want to snap, trying to keep calm is a challenge. My sister said this best to me. She said I could get angry and mad and hurt their feelings and get on a plane. However, if something were to happen to them, I have to live with the thought of what I did. Therefore she always suggests, to keep calm and don’t get mad, because I don’t have the opportunity of making it upto them the following week considering I live on the other side of the world.
There is plenty of times my father tests my patience, making me want to run away and catch the next flight, but if there is one thing I have learnt is that I need to stop constantly worrying about my feelings and take their feelings into account.