Ocean eyes.
Blue skies.
Blue sea.
I hate them all. One would think with my light_ocean eyes I would love the ocean, but no, I loathe it with every living cell in my body. I hate the waves, the sun, and the blue sky, and I hate most of all summer.
10 years ago in this same sea, I lost my Dad, my first love, my first boyfriend, and my first best friend. He meant the world to me; he was my hero, my sandcastle king, while I was his little princess. Every summer holiday, we went to our beach house and spent quality time together. I used to be so happy and filled with excitement whenever we went to the beach.
I used to love the ocean till it took Dad away from me, and I blame it—I blame mom, I blame dad's job, I blame the stupid summer holiday, and I blame myself because if I stayed where he told me to, if I had only listened, Dad would still be here.
I have lived with that guilt for years.
The tears rushed down my cheeks in slow pace, like raindrops. Dad's birthday and memorial were on the same day; maybe the reason I'm so emotional is because his birthday was next week. I heard the door open, revealing my mom. I quickly wiped my tears so she wouldn't notice.
My mom and I were never close; our bond was stained, and dad's death only made her enclosed even more. She was so distant that I couldn't reach her emotionally. But we tolerate each other.
"Hey Stacy, how was school today, huh?"
She walks in a soft voice. I have always admired my mom. She's that kind of independent mom with classic taste; she had the brightest smiles. My dad said I took after her in terms of appearance, but I had my dad's personality and his blue eyes. When dad died, everything died off with him. Mom never smiled after that, and when she did, it was always so fake and stained. But I have grown used to it.
"School was fine." I sighed, looking out my window; the window seemed to look more interesting than whatever she's here for.
I heard her inhale slowly and exhale slower, and I felt like whatever she wanted to tell me was important if she's so tensed up. "We. Sighs. We are going to the summer beach house this holiday."
My neck snapped so fast I heard a crack as I narrowed my eyes to stare at her.
"You're joking, right? If you are, I don't find it funny, mom. You know why I hate that place." I was quietly seething; how could she not know how much I despise that place, the sea and beach mostly. No way am I going there ever.
"Stacy, it's been 10 years; we need to start living." Mom said.
"No, you need to start living, because I'm okay with the life I have."
She sighs, looking exhausted and much older than her age. I know I was difficult to handle, and she was stressed out of her mind when it came to me.
"Please, Stacy, it's hard. I know, but he is gone. We need to let go; we need to live. At least that's what he would want from us."
"Mom, please don't make me go; I can't—I don't. Please Mommy." I mumbled as my voice stained. I can't do what she's asking me to. I felt the tears pouring out of my eyes.
I felt her hands wrapped around me in a tight hug, and I just allowed the tears to pour down my eyes, sobbing because I have missed her. I have missed this. I have missed being held by her.
"We would be fine. I promise, I will protect you." Her voice wasn't any better, because it sounded broken, and I just melted into her warm hug.
And that's how it got us into a flight, leaving my solitude, and boom, Harry Potter gone wrong, I found myself in our beach house. Everything was the same; nothing changed. Our fun memories were captured in pictures, and I found myself looking out. I saw the first time my dad taught me how to swim. I was really young back then. I saw another frame of mom and dad sharing a passionate kiss and me trying to separate them. A smile appeared on my face.
"Hey, do you want to eat or go to the beach?" My mom queried me as her gaze landed on me. I averted my eyes, shaking my head, before leaving for my room. Not before I heard her sighing sadly.
Hours passed by, and it was already evening. The sea was calm, and for some unknown reason, I wanted to take a stroll down the beach, and that was what I did. I looked for mom, only to find her in dad's little office, sobbing bitterly.
"Leon I can't do this without you; I feel like every single day is a struggle, and I'm losing myself. I'm scared of what the future will be for us and for Stacy. She hasn't moved on one bit, and I know—I know it's my fault—that I haven't been a good mom. I just wish you were here." I watched how my mom broke down. It's like her little mask of strength fell off and that got to my mood as it plummeted. I slowly left where I was hiding, and my legs just carried me straight to the beach. I walked and walked till I couldn't.
My attempt at being strong fell off like a mask that wouldn't fit its owner's face, and that's when I left it all out. The tears and each doleful scream carried out my pain and frustration. I knew my mom was suffering, but seeing it broke me. She was blaming herself instead of me; I just wish she'd blame me. Because then I won't feel this way.
I was too lost in my grief to have noticed the embodiment of water forming into a body from the ocean, there stood before me a human being and when I glanced, I saw my dad.
"Da-daddy!!!"
"My little starfish."
That was all I needed to confirm it truly was him. I threw my arms around him in a tight embrace, and oddly, he was not warm but rather cold and chilled like the ocean.
"D-daddy. Oh da-da." I choked on my own sob.
"Shh." He shushed me gently. "I know baby, I know how painful you have been living and enduring, but it was never your fault, sweetie."
"No, no, you don't understand. If I had listened when you told me to stay on the beach, you wouldn't have come to save me, and you would still be aliv-."
"There is no need to dwell on the past my little starfish; you have a life to live, and you are too young to be stuck in the past." He chuckled and pinched my nose playfully. "You need to be okay for yourself but also for your mom, you need to be strong for both of you. And I have no regrets. I would always, always be proud of you."
My eyes were swollen and crimson from all the tears. But I was happy for the first time in a long time; I truly felt peace. Looking at him with his bright smile only brought back memories. Good memories. We walked around the beach and even played a bit. It was laughable because Stacy, the hater of the ocean, was playing in it. Dad told me how his soul was linked to this ocean, bonded in some sort of way.
He told me how he watched over us, how he missed Mom, and how he wanted her to move on. But he knew her; she wouldn't move on from his death. So it's better that she lives on, still having him in her heart.
We talked for a long time until it was time to go. And everything came crashing down on me as reality hit. I didn't want him to leave again, I wasn't ready to let go. He told me he wasn't in this world anymore. But he promised to always look out for me. The last thing I recall was his soft kiss on my forehead, and then he gave me a pretty white sea shell. He told me that whenever I felt sad or lonely, I should talk with a white shell and imagine he was there. And I would feel his presence.
Well for the last five years. That was what I had been doing, and truly, I felt him there. He couldn't hug me or tell me what to do, but his presence was enough.
Recalling my 20-year-old memories, where I woke up and thought my meeting Dad on the beach was just a dream. But then there was the shell I saw laying on the side of my pillow, and from that moment on, I knew everything was going to be alright.
Me and mom fixed our stained relationship, and we have never been happier to be in each other's presence. True to Dad's words, mom never seeks any emotional comfort from anyone or has moved on. She was loyal to my old man, even in his grave. She opened a small restaurant on the beach. She told me how tiring it was being a mom and pursuing her career; instead, she wanted to pursue something that wouldn't separate us. Well, she was happy. Who am I to say no?
I, myself, became a lifeguard, which was shocking. Yes, I know right. Stacy, the hater of the ocean, was rescuing people and teaching people how to be safe in the sea. And nothing made me happier; I was grateful for that one summer beach vacation because, guess what? I was making more beautiful memories because of that experience.
