But as we walk down the ramp to the beach, I look to the right side of the beach, against the cliffs and by the rickety wooden stairs.
Jason proposed here.
I knew it was happening. All the girls went to get pedicures while the guys had "bro-time" or some lame excuse that allowed them to go set up the proposal. I remember walking onto the beach with bare feet and freshly painted toenails. My heart was racing as I imagined what waited for me. Tangled lanterns and beach - those were my two suggestions. He took the beach suggestion, so I was excited to see the lanterns.
They were mediocre at best. Sad little cardstock and printed paper (he got the sun design right at least) taped together with itty bitty fake candles to kind of light them. It was just a little underwhelming.
His speech was nice, even if my family was two steps away and could hear every word. The ring was beautiful and we got great pictures with the sunset. I told myself that I didn't need the perfect proposal because I had the perfect guy.
But I wanted more ... from both the guy and the proposal. No one should feel lame about their proposal.
Shaking off the memory, I help Mom and Dad stake out our beach blanket territory for today. It's a beautiful day - not ridiculously hot like last weekend - and the waves look nice. Dad made a good choice in suggesting Moonlight.
We sunscreen up (meaning I spray Mom's back while she simultaneously cringes at the cool temperature of the suncreen and demands another coat ... I spray my shoulders and am done (#lifeguardtan) ) and grab the boogie boards to head into the waves.
It's while we're trying to swim past the first wave breaking point that the other memory seizes me. I get a glance of the beach as it narrows to the left of the entrance ramp - a slender strip of beach populated by pebbly sand and large boulders.
Jason and I sat on those rocks, about six months after the proposal, three and a half months ago from today .... and one day before our original wedding date. We sat on those rocks and acknowledged - out loud, for the first time, in heart-breaking certainty - that we didn't know how to make our relationship work.
This memory is harder to shake off. The proposal was upsetting because I felt so apathetic about it. But the apathy makes it easy to shake off. I'd give a lot to feel apathetic towards the second memory.
Boogie boarding today proves to be a good distraction. I can't mope in the past when most of my mental (and physical) energy is devoted to not getting pummeled by waves. I get some good waves, long rides. Mom goes in about halfway through, but Dad and I brave the seaweed death trap and stay out longer.
The usual Capri-suns, wheat-thins, and sandwiches await us when we make it to the blanket. We munch and even break out the peanut-butter m&ms.
And sitting there with my parents, for the first time in along time .... I feel okay. I don't feel the excitement of an engagement that lays to the right of us or the dread of a breakup to the left. We sit in the middle, the part of the beach filled with happy, unspoiled memories of days a lot like this one, and I relax into the safety of the middle of the beach, into the feeling of "okay."
Please be ready for beach days of boogie boarding and braving seaweed, and know that I love you.
