Megan
Eccles. It really is amazing how many Megans I love. She is one of them. And I
don't just love her because she is my very biggest fangirl. I love her because
she has a heart as big as the ocean. She supports everyone and is their biggest
cheerleader. She wasn't originally on the line up as I felt I had too many. But
the more and more I thought about it, the more I realized this little thing
wouldn't be complete if it didn't include her.
She
is funny as hell and she pretty much said to all of the twitterverse she's
moving up to Seattle, so help me make her keep that promise, okay? Because
Seattle will be way more awesome if she's here.
So I
gave her a picture that almost didn’t get included in this thing. And it was
one of my favorites. And though her story is brief, it packs a wallop. She
is a tremendous talent with intelligence, depth, and passion. And I am privileged
to share with you, By the Sea by Megan Eccles.
The Memory Project (continued)
Continuing
past the pictures of the stone figure, we flipped the page again and my eyes
drifted to one picture among the others. With the tips of my fingers, I
smoothed the curled edge from corner of the photo. The paper here seemed almost…tear
stained. The moment my skin touched the black and white image, a shot of
something flowed through me, as if it came from the photo itself. Not
electricity exactly, something else. Something…emotional. I carefully touched
the photo again, this time letting my finger linger.
As I
did, a rush of emotions filled me. Pain. Guilt. Anguish. I was filled with the
overwhelming need to cry. As tears welled in my eyes, I pulled my hand away,
immediately breaking the hold the photo seemed to have on me. I gained control
of my emotions and wondered just what this photo's story was.
(to be continued…)
By The Sea
By Megan Eccles
She
hoped it would rain. She hoped the drops would pour down on her skin and
wipe away the sick and sand and sadness the way the salted water was supposed
to. But she couldn’t cross over the line between wet and dry, couldn’t
make herself dip into the deep She was not ready for this, she wasn’t
ready for any of it.
One
year, it had been one year since he died. She counted the seconds without
him on the gooseflesh on her arm that raised whenever she thought his
name. Sebastian made her feel like the person she wanted to be, made her
feel like the person he deserved.
She
shifted in her borrowed chair and tried not to think of him, but she couldn’t
ignore the memory of his face or the sweetness of his breath. She was
afraid that if she held onto those memories too tightly they’d slip through her
fingers like water, like sand, like the love she thought she had and couldn’t
keep.
Light
broke from the clouds before her, a single thread of hope dropped down for her
to grasp. She would have held onto it, but after Sebastian, Michael
packed up his things and went, too haunted by the shape of her eyes and the
same way she looked at him, the same way Sebastian looked, before.
It
was an accident, it always was. He wasn’t even in the water, just up
against the shore with his blue bucket and bright red shovel, searching fro
shells and sand crabs and small memories of childhood to pack up and try and
take with him. She wouldn’t let him take anything living, of course, but
the sea shell he offered her before he ran back to his playground would be a
perfect token of this trip, a perfect token of his third birthday. She
was only ten feet away, maybe. She was close enough to hear his voice
echo in his bucket. She was close enough to see his skin raise at the breeze,
to see the twist of his hair and the light in his eyes as he captured the froth
and foam of the waves. He thought they were dragons, white and waiting to
take him home.
She
only looked away for a second, and when she looked back, he was gone. She
heard the lifeguard’s whistle break the air as she ran and toward the
water. She knocked the bucket over, spilling out his collection of crabs
and sand. She could see him, so small, toppling in the white. The
lifeguard cradled him in his arms the same way she did when she brought him
home when he was new. Except this time, he wouldn’t breathe.
The
rain came down with wet, heavy drops, marring the tears that left trails on her
skin. She clutched the tiny shell in her hand, traced her finger
along the spiraled ridge. If she could will herself back to that day
she’d catch him out of the deep just in time, blow air into his lungs as if for
the first time. She’d take him to Disneyland or the park or home or
anywhere where he’d be safe and sound forever, where he could grow from a boy
into a man while she watched and waited. Instead she was here, just as
before, wishing like horses and begging the ivory dragons to give her just one
more moment, just one last chance to say goodbye.
The
thread of light shifted with the cloud coverage, permeating the rain and
resting in the small of her hand where she held Sebastian’s shell. A
rainbow arched above her, ending at the last gift her son gave her, the last
part of him she could hold.
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