Swimming in salty tears

There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love. ~ Washington Irving

I have been a little restless these past few days and I know it is a combination of the end of the school year, the heat (it has been extra hot this Florida spring!), and the six-month anniversary of my dad's death.

I cannot believe it's been six months since that day I kissed and said goodbye to my father.  A half of a year gone already?  I keep thinking I'm supposed to feel a certain way and yet I cannot fully determine how I feel.  My head and heart have been talking to me a great deal over the past few days.  My brain cannot seem to shut down with all the activities that are taking place as the school year ends, the summer begins and plans for a visit back up north are underway.  My heart has been heavy with the thought that when we do visit Minnesota this summer, my dad will not be there.

With all of this I have been adding swimming back into my exercise routine.  I recall a time about ten years ago when I was swimming like a machine.  Right now I am lucky if I get in once, maybe twice a week for laps.  There is something so awesome about gliding along the water, feeling your body move with grace and ease.

So today I kicked off this Memorial Day weekend with taking the girls to the YMCA pool.  I swam some laps while they played in the family pool.  I needed the movement for my body but what I find is that swimming takes me into my own little world.  The only sounds I hear are those of my body moving through the water and my breath entering and exiting in steady rhythm.  It gives me time to think, to escape and to simply feel weightless.

Today's swim was different.  I needed to shed this lingering restlessness and pain within my heart.  I had not cried in a while and it was the perfect place to just let go.  So I swam and I cried those salty tears.  I told my dad that I missed him.

I just kept swimming and crying those salty tears. I thought about the meaning of this weekend.  Thinking again of my dad and how he served in the Korean War and how he is now gone.  I remember Memorial Day weekends as a child.  So excited for the start of summer, my dad grilling, and mom's potato salad and of course the beginning of swimming season.  We lived for swimming as kids growing up in Minnesota.  After surviving the long winters our reward was those days of swimming from Memorial Day all the way through Labor Day.  We savored summer.  It was a time to relax and let go of all your worries.

I kept swimming and crying those salty tears and before I knew it, it had been over 45 minutes.  I felt the internal and external cleansing of those tears.  I had lost track of how many laps I had completed but I felt a lightness fall over my entire body.

The girls joined me in the lap lane.  We practice our swimming strokes together.  My little Chloe hugging me in between our races.  My little Fiona timing her laps.  My dads "little angels" giving me the love and support that I needed at that moment.

I guess I needed a good cry and swim today.  I have a feeling I will have more of them to come - even more this weekend quite possibly.

May we all have a weekend filled with remembering those that have served and passed on but also a weekend filled with renewing, cleansing tears of sadness, joy, love and hope.

Here is to the start of summer, swimming, salty tears, sand between your toes and love embracing your heart always.

Namaste

Dad and his little angels

Here's to the beach this summer!