When the pandemic
began, my mom dove into the sea.
She began swimming laps in the Pacific Ocean every morning. Most days, the beach was completely deserted aside from a lone lifeguard. She walked directly into the breaking waves and she swam.
The ocean became her sanctuary. Her place to process, grieve, and gather her strength while the hospitals filled, and the news headlines blared, one crisis after another.
At first, she only had the endurance to swim for a few minutes at a time. Gradually she gained more stamina. Eventually she swam one or two miles a day.
This became her daily meditation—a few moments of peace in the midst of a chaotic world.
She is nearly 70 years old.
She had never been a swimmer before.
But it is never too late to become a mermaid.
. . .
A little while ago, mom said, “I’ve been writing journal entries about the sea—about the lessons I’ve learned from the ocean and the people I’ve met at the beach.”
I told her, “You could publish your entries as a book.”
She said, “Okay, why not?”
And so, she did.
My mom’s first book is called Sea Fever. She wrote it. My dad did the artwork. My mom has never been an author before. My dad has never been an illustrator before. But they decided to do this project together—because life is short and why not create something beautiful while you can?
I proudly ordered a copy of Sea Fever and took a quick photo with my phone.
