This is sea.

It’s almost, somewhat captivating seeing the free spirited happiness radiating from the children, that freely explore across the golden sandy shore.

As we as parents sit a little further back absorbing their rays like a warm summers day.

Their legs are almost giddy, reminding me of bambi, as they try to run along the sand. The sea salted, crisp fresh air, teased Livy’s blonde white curls. Blowing her ringlets with the airs song of the sea. You can almost taste the salt from the heavy air, I’m unsure if that’s the sea or particles of someone’s supper of fish and chips, salted and covered in vinegar. A comforting smell and a taste that always goes down pleasantly well.

Things haven’t been easy for the best of us, our new normality has taken others harder to adjust too. Whilst others have this superhuman ability to adapt and adjust to what ever faces them. And for that, I applaud every single strength that you have.

4 Months with a complexed health and clinically extremely vulnerable yet most beautifully delicate, strong willed and abled child, wasn’t all that easy. We broke down together, we smiled and laughed together. We held one another together. We took on a new way of living together and we took on challenges we had no idea how to conquer them together. But together, we did ok together. And we saw our parting, end of shielding and back to normality, reaching closer together.

My anxiety to return to normality, like the sapphire tinted waves of the sea, rippling like a pleated blanket across the shore, was hard to ignore. The overwhelming thoughts consumed my mind like the squabbling angered seagulls, circling overhead a discarded, half eaten supper of crispy glistening, battered fish. My heart sank to the bottom of the depths, with a mixture of pride and sadness as our time came to parting, a girl with eyes that sparkled like the ocean as the ripples touched the sun, I was forced to wave her goodbye until she faded of of sight, into the doors of the school. A moment of watching a boat sail its independent journey into horizon, where the sun and water meet. A place of paradise and dreams, a place where you can grow, learn to express yourself and be who you wish to be.

Isn’t it funny, how inspiring sitting on the beach can be. In its truest form of nature, as the call of the waves reaches out to you and it’s quite impossible to resist it reaching out to connect you, inspire you, to remember who you are and why you’ve always loved to write.

Published by Mothering Silence

A late twenty-something mother of two boys and a profoundly deaf diva of almighty sass. In between splitting spontaneous sibling wars, curiatimg pillow forts and channeling inner superheroes. Mothering Silence documents a brutally honest truth of the trials and tribulations of motherhood. (The toughest hood.) Here you'll find the weekly ramblings of the rollercoaster life of my journey in motherhood. *Please note my style of writing is tongue in cheek.

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