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| Turns out it's really a "Baby's Ear" shell |
I realize that I have way too many posts about people dying, but I feel like I have to post this one too. The other day a friend shared photos on Facebook of the beach near the house her parents owned. Her mother recently died and she and her sister went out to the house over the weekend. It was one of the nicer weekends we've had this January. It made me think of my experience at the beach at the Outer Banks the summer after my friend and neighbor died. Lynn died "suddenly" in that she died a month after being diagnosed with cancer. My friend's mother had not died that quickly, but several months is barely enough time to get used to the idea of cancer, much less the idea of dying. My mother-in-law died in that same "sudden" way in 2012. In September they said "cancer" and she was gone in December.
For whatever reason, Lynn's death was so devastating and I was still trying to figure it out that summer at the beach. And thus began the story of the "Slipper Shell" that is actually a "Baby's Ear" (according to shell ID sites) which has been passed around from friend to friend as a sort of talisman to remind whoever has it that her sister-friends are with her during whatever turmoil is occurring. I had never told the story to anyone but when Terry was diagnosed with cancer, I felt I should give her the shell. So, I gave it to Terry when we were at the beach for her birthday/cancer diagnosis weekend. Then Kathryn had it when she was diagnosed. Andi had it for awhile when she was far away and her sister and sister-in-law were dying. Marykay had it and then it came back to me when I needed help getting through the death of another friend. I don't know why I didn't think to pass it on to Gail when she told us about her mother. I guess we all figured there was plenty of time. Then we were all busy and then suddenly, her mother was gone.
Like the shell itself, I really have no idea what it all means. It really doesn't mean anything I guess. There's so many things I don't believe in anymore, magic included. But I do love having that shell. And I do love having sister friends--even when we hardly ever see each other. Perhaps it's just a story that reminds me that I can not control when or how or who will bring answers.
Here's the story:
The Lady Slipper
August 12, 2005, Corolla, The Outer Banks, North Carolina
Came down to the beach early to sit and read and write along with the walkers, joggers, the early birds (real ones) kayakers, no surfers, and the shell seekers.
Walked down around the bend
and started picking up shells and rocks as I walked back.
Thinking about Lynn. Maybe I’ll bring shells back and take them to the cemetery and say hello.
I look up and see an older woman approaching me…
I prepare to greet good morning and think “wow, she looks like Lynn’s Mom!”
She reaches in her pocket, pulls out a shell and reaches it toward me…
“Are you picking up shells? Here, I found this… It’s called a Lady Slipper.”
She turns it over; it’s intact.
“I thought you might like to have it. It’s rare to find one intact.”
She puts it in my hand.
I turn it over to look and say, “I’ve never seen one before. Now I’ll know what to look for” and try to hand it back to her.
But she won’t take it so I say thank you and stand there looking at it.
She continues on, walking passed me up the beach.
When I turn to say thanks, have a nice day—she is gone.
I am overcome. I brought down “Gift from the Sea” for meditative reading this morning…was thinking about Kathryn and her Mom as I walked down the boardwalk and down the steps to the sand and what I might say when I write to her.
Thinking about Lynn.
Just serendipity? (The name of the store Mike and I went into the other night.)
Karma? A balance to the little scuffles with the girls and Mike this week?
All this time I’ve been hoping that Lynn would come to me and let me know everything was OK.
Did she wait for this quiet moment alone, when I least expected her—instead of in the middle of life on Hope Lane where I’ve been watching and waiting?
How to know that? I don’t know, but I believe it.
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| Ocean City with Sister-Friends |
