Emma and Jay and Robin are vacationing on the beach this and next week. On Cape Cod, they are staying with Paula, my first wife and Robin’s mother.
Paula and I spent some summers on Cape Cod for more than 15 years, and nine or ten of those years were with Emma. It was there I dreamed of being a book writer, and there that I became one.
Today, Emma and Robin walked together alone on the beach in NorthTruro looking for seals, Emma and I walked on those same beaches summer after summer; it was one of our most treasured experiences together.
I closed my eyes and was walking with them. My spirit was right there.
The beaches on the Cape are beautiful; one of my favorite games was to hide treasure on the beach the morning before we went there and then find a “treasure map” that guided her to them.
It took her a couple of years to figure it out; it took Robin the same time.
I can’t lie; when I see this photo, it is a kind of stab to the heart. It brings a certain melancholy.
Paula and I had some wonderful summers there; by the time Emma was beginning to grow up, I felt the marriage was weakening; instead of going to the beach with her and Emma, I went up to Provincetown every day and hung out with artist friends there.
I was beginning to move away from the marriage and my family.
A part of me wishes I could be on that beach walking with my granddaughter and daughter today, but I doubt we will ever be taking a vacation together.
Life is a series of trade-offs, I think; you get things, lose things, and find things and run from things. I ended up where I belong; somehow, it was a miracle, given how messed up I was.
Emma has come to understand that part of our lives, I think; I believe she knows now that I did the best I could as my world was crashing around me.
Life is like that; it has its own rhythms and ideas about things; I work all the time on acceptance. I’m getting pretty good at it.
I’m glad Emma and Paula are close, glad that they still go to the same house where we went on the same road. Divorce shatters life, but it can also give rebirth to it.
And I’m grateful Robin gets to have this experience with her mother, father, and grandfather. It is the making of blessed memories for her. I used to make those memories with her, and I never forget that.
I have no complaints or regrets; besides that, I wish I were up there today looking for seals. Apparently, they found some. But, unfortunately, there was no one else on the beach.
I remember the feel of the sand on my feet, the cries of the seagulls, the crashing of the waves, the smell of the ocean. I so loved it there.
Emma knows which photos to send.
Emma and I left written messages in the sand on the Provincetown Dunes every year. Robin loves the Cape as much as I did, and Paula did, and Emma did.
Our family fell apart, but some of the best traditions survived.
I felt like crying a little when I saw this beautiful photo Emma, but I didn’t. The hurt of all this gets lighter every year. But it will always be there, I am ready for it.
Ending a 35-year marriage was perhaps the hardest single thing I have done in my life.
Yet Emma and Maria are two of the best things that ever happened to me, and nothing can change that.
I will never stop giving thanks for the wonderful things that happened to me, even as I waded through mid-life and beyond.
Emma says she still goes and looks for those messages, she has not forgotten where we buried them, even as the wind has altered the dunes.
Those dunes are perhaps are the most wonderful and beautiful places I have ever seen, I left big chunks of my heart and soul there, and my walks with Emma were some of the best memories we had together.
I bet she finds one of them one day; we buried them deeply and wrapped them in plastic.
Tomorrow is Father’s Day, a day I never know what to make of. But, I must have done all right because Emma is such a wonderful mother, a better parent than I could be.
Being a father is an awesome responsibility. Sometimes I was really good at it; sometimes, I wasn’t good enough. I was carrying too much freight.
I have no apologies and no complaints. I did the best I could. I loved Emma every day of her life, then and now.
That’s a sweet thing for me to reflect on.
Photo by Emma Span
Your words … your thoughts are as beautiful as those dunes Jon . thank you for sharing your soul.
I haven’t finish reading the above yet, only a few paragraphs in. I have to say… invite your daughter and her family to visit the farm. Robin would always fondly remember that vacation. 🙂 No place beats a farm.
Thanks, Nancy, I’m not looking for guidance on Facebook from strangers…
Writing a well read blog will get you guidance on facebook from strangers.. and replys explaining this to you on your blog from a stranger. There was nothing malicious in her guidance, and your response was interesting. Why not turn off the comments if you wish to receive no comments
I don’t disagree with a word you wrote, Matthew.
I never said I didn’t wish to receive comments, nor did I suggest she was malicious. I just wrote what I feel about advice. What’s your problem?
I’m sure everyone who gives advice means well. I don’t do it unrequested myself, and I don’t wish to mislead people or waste their time (or mine). I’m not looking for Dear Abby here. As I’ve often said, I admire Thoreau, he would have hung himself if Walden was on Facebook. He liked to make his own mistakes too.
But I don’t take that kind of advice from strangers and people ought to know that when they give it, it’s just a matter of openness and honesty. Please explain what is wrong with that to you.
I don’t much care for messages like this either – indignity is easy online – but it’s part of having a blog and I don’t hide from it. Also, I’m quite aware of what publishing a well-read blog is like, I’ve been doing it for 15 years. It doesn’t mean I have to hide what I feel or pretend.
Quite the opposite in fact, I suspect it’s a reason the blog is well-read. I promised at the outset to be honest, and even on social media, I don’t think that’s yet a crime. I see my obligation here is to write what I feel, not what you think I should feel. For me, that is the beauty and wonder of the blog. And why are you protesting when she isn’t? I presume she can speak for herself and is not made of crystal.
Perhaps people ought not post on people’s blogs if they can handle responses.
best jon
Robyn is going to have great pictures to look back on. . Love that photograph. This one. and the umbrella/ rubber boots/ rain one are my favorites. Aldo her holding up the skeleton you sent her. Great photographs of her, for her.
Do forgive me for the first text as I am not looking to give you guidance.
No offense..Nancy..
Clearly she thought it offended you, she asked for forgiveness,
Because of your reply; “I’m not looking for guidance on Facebook from strangers…”
You wrote that you didn’t disagree with a word I wrote, and then said it was just what you feel about advice… which I take as you aren’t looking for it, or asking for it, nor want to read it, nor get it from your fans, nor readers of your blog…
Yet clearly that isn’t true of all the advice or guidance you get from your readers, because you sure liked the advice and guidance from Sue in Canada that let you know about the 3M tape. So, you may not be looking for guidance – but you will certainly take it, if you like it.. and let your readers know if you don’t
Jon – I am not trying to be an internet troll, ruffle your feathers, or piss you off (lol). I’m a fan. Mom bought me your second book for Christmas when I had my first border collie. Today, I’m reading each book in order (up to soul of a dog) and enjoy your writing. I normally don’t write to authors.
But your response to Nancy tweaked me, and felt it highlighted something you aren’t honest about
She just expressed what everyone would believe would be a great experience for everyone. Your reply simply shined a light on the pain that it isn’t as easy as said… and you didn’t need to reply at all (which wouldn’t have shined a light)
mas
Matt, since you’ve now suggested that I am both dishonest and a hypocrite, I think this is not a useful conversation or conversation. Feels like cable news.
I just don’t know how to argue with strangers who insist they know what am thinking better than I do. If that’s true, there’s nothing for me to say. If it isn’t, then people can reach their own conclusions, it’s all there in the open for them to read. Best wishes to you and I do thank you for a thoughtful and useful discussion. I hope I will always follow the advice I like and not the advice I don’t.
You are many steps above an Internet Troll, this doesn’t mean you are right. Best to you (I suggest you get a refund for my books, I don’t think you want to be reading somebody you see as a dishonest hypocrite. I wouldn’t.) – jon, please say hi to your mother.