TOWN BEACH ROSARY

It's crazy, the things we can lose at the beach! That said, recently I was reminded of having lost my rosary while swimming at the Town Beach in Parry Sound.

Which reminds me of the difficult relationship with my mother.

Which reminds me of the last time I saw her.

Which reminds me of how long it has been since I've seen her.

Which makes me feel on an onslaught of negative emotions.

Breathe.

Continuing. Some time ago, I travelled to Parry Sound to visit my mother (she is not one to want to visit me). It was summer, so I suggested we go to the Town Beach to minimize the triggers that come with going "home" (I didn't tell her that). She was luke-warm about the idea but agreed.

Next. Fast forward to this Ignatian-style reflection (5 years after the Town Beach visit).

Here is the reflection:

I am swimming in my black cut off jeans and a T-shirt (rosary in my pocket).

The water is shallow, clear and so blue. 

It feels cool, refreshing on my skin.

The smell is ingrained in my youth.

My mother is on the beach. She's sitting on top of a weathered and un-even picnic table; her feet are on the bench. She is looking down; I can still see her. It's hard to tell if she is sad or sort of sulking? I watch her from the safety of the water, not knowing how to get past the long-standing wall between us. I am unaware that while I'm wondering... my precious rosary is floating out of my pocket into Georgian Bay. Now fast forward-- the visit ends badly. If I described it to you, you probably wouldn't even believe it.

Lord, let the effects of my mother's abuse float out of my other pocket and into Georgian Bay, like my rosary did.

Cb

Amen


(Image: Town of Parry Sound)
 
 

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