Down at the beach, where I spend over fifty percent of my time now, the roar of Mother Nature hits even harder. The many moods of nature gush forth in the waves of the ocean. The sunsets are more vibrant, but so are the storms that blow through. If it is breezy inland, the winds at the beach clamor in with a force that knocks over our patio furniture and pelts the windows of our home with a shear curtain of fury. This is life on the edge of a bluff.
I expected to soar through my life in the company of my husband and our beautiful angel daughters. But I also expected that my younger brother would always be there, raising his children, living his life and sharing more history with me. Being "an only child" is my new normal and one that has not been very easy to get used to. It is a very, very strange feeling.