Broken in Half

You don’t need to say goodbye to me. You never did. 

Can you catch the air in your hand?

I know you can’t.

Can you hold the ocean in your palm?

No.

Can you hold memories in your heart?

I know that you can. (…)

I do need to say goodbye. It feels like the story has no ending if you don’t say goodbye. 

Maybe the story should never end, my son.

 Lara Williamson. The Boy who sailed the ocean in an armchair

 

I demand rain. Storms. Heavy clouds. Darkness. Dampness. Dread.

Instead, yet another gorgeous sun-rise. Breathtakingly beautiful. Last weird long black at the beach – MY BEACH – and I watch the sun bath my dark surroundings in an ocean of brilliant colours. Yellows and purples, pink and orange. Tiny white-capped waves rippling towards the shore, clouds like cotton candy puffing peacefully along in the sky. I don’t know whether to smile or cry.

Schools in Sydney remain open, but children are being taught online. It’s an interesting concept, let’s put it that way. Online roll-calls, video chats, pre-recorded lessons and lots and lots of emails and questions from parents. Lots! Alone in my flat, my laptop and me – teaching has suddenly become a very lonely job. 

To keep my sanity, I start the day – every day now – with a weird long black from my favourite coffee shop, a walk to the beach and some time on my beloved green bench. 

And it’s here that I say goodbye. Goodbye to my home from home. My love of my life. My happiest place. Nature puts on a final show for me. A Best of The Beaches. The grand finale. Encore after encore until I can’t applaud anymore. 

Every morning the same sight, yet a different scene. Ominous clouds, lit up by a fiery ball, pastel hues and shades of blues. Morning haze, ocean glaze, sunrise painting the sky pink. Color of the morning sky. Color of the sea. Color of the morning coffee standing next to me. 

Green wooden bench. Morning dew dampness. Wet from early morning rains. Or still warm from yesterday’s sun. I sit and stare. Sitting. Waiting. Wishing.

Damn you, Corona! I am mad. I am angry. I am sad. This  is not how this was supposed to end. My year of teaching the dream. Learning to swim against the tide of disappointment. Only one of the many disappointments we all experience right now . Big and small. The virus takes away something from all of us. And – for each one of us at least – it is something big. 

Catching the last plane home to Toronto tomorrow, I’m leaving, yet,  I’m not ready to go. Head over heart. Good call! Safe choice! The right thing to do. My heart broken into two. One half staying here, the other already with my family back home. I wish I had a magic eight ball to see where all this will end. When it will end and how. I think we all would like that.

I’m not done with my dream, yet. So instead of saying STOP! I press pause. I will be back – thousands of dollars stuck in travel vouchers will make sure of that. For now, I leave you with a week’s worth of glorious sunrises and then I’ll give you a break from  f***ing gorgeous beaches. Cheers! Hasta la vista! I’ll be back baby!