To the Sea (Follow your Bliss) Read Online Free Page A

and managed to get the thing on the roof. How
someone navigated the slippery, awkward thing in the water, never mind on land,
was beyond her.
    As
the sibilant GPS guided her to the ocean, a subdued ginger glow peeked above
the horizon where a blaze of sun should have been.
    Kira
pulled into the parking lot adjacent to a broadly spanning beach at high tide.
Far off, a black figure stretched and then dashed into the water with a
surfboard.
    The
water rhythmically ebbed and flowed. Her lip quivered. Tears welled and poured
from her eyes as if they were attracted to the salty water of the ocean beyond.
    The
sun tried to present itself up over the horizon, but the misty clouds and fog
muted its light. More figures in sleek, black wetsuits scaled the short wall
dividing the parking lot from the beach. She imagined Jeremy joining their
ranks.
    Kira
sat in the parking lot, the urn resting beside her like a passenger. The stiff
wind aggravated the waves as they fought their way to shore. She sat frozen,
unable to get out of the car and proceed with part two of her plan. Part one
was to get herself to the ocean, a place she’d avoided because of the itchy
sand, the hair-ruffling breeze, and its wild unpredictability. Part two was to
walk toward the sea, and part three—she hadn’t yet penned the thought in her
mind. She knew what she had to do, but becoming a widow came with its
particular challenges, like meeting reality on a daily basis, never mind
getting out of bed. So part three was more of an abstract theory. Letting go.
How could she let go?
    A
dark-haired surfer settled on the partition wall in Kira’s line of sight as the
waves rolled in and out. He set his board across his lap, applied what looked
like a bar of soap, and then leaned the board on the wall in the sand in front
of him. He lifted his chin and watched the waves. A seagull landed a few feet
to his left and gazed in the same direction. The three of them watched the
foggy and foamy ocean intently, each for their own purposes.
    As
the waves crashed relentlessly into the sand, Kira felt as if they came down
upon her in the form of sadness, loneliness, loss, fear, and longing, each in
turn. She couldn’t bear life without Jeremy, which made getting out of the car
and releasing his ashes impossible. 
    Seconds
after she turned the key in the ignition, the seagull took flight, and the
surfer on the wall watched it dip and glide for a few moments. Then he glanced
over his shoulder as Kira started to back out of the parking spot, the urn
resting safely beside her. She couldn’t let go. She couldn’t do it. Not yet.
    Upon
returning to Lilac Court, Kira retreated to her room, drew the shades, and lay
down. Behind her closed eyes, as if burned into her retinas, the pulsation of
the waves flashed and sprayed. Sleep eluded her, and the scent of Jeremy on the
pillow had dissipated. She craved both with a feeble yearning.
    Kira
pulled up on the screen of her Mac and looked at her email. Condolences, ads,
spam, and a confirmation reminder from the hotel in Paris were stacked
chronologically. She knew she should cancel the hotel reservation, but couldn’t
bring her finger to the keypad. Acknowledging it was another way to make losing
Jeremy final.
    She
closed her eyes, trying to remember his voice when he said goodnight that last
time. The sound and smell of him, the way he moved, and his laugh, faded in her
mind. Sobbing, she tried to wish it all back. 
    Through
her tears, the glow on the computer screen blurred. Kira reached for the glass
of water on her nightstand. Her fingers, weak from clenching them tightly to
her chest, lost her grasp on the glass. It poured, almost in slow motion, onto
the laptop keyboard.
    With
helpless frustration, she managed more tears as she set the computer, in a
soupy mess, on the floor, and went to fetch a towel.
    Later
that afternoon, her phone jingled. The caller was Frank Brinkman, the senior
account executive at Henniker, who oversaw the