“In this sea of many, I know you, and you know me.”
Sitting on the front porch of the terracotta house with the white washed door, nestled in The Pine Walk, she smokes a cigarette and sips sweet wine.Pine needles cover the ground beneath like a blanket. I guess that’s where the street found its name.
Her family are gathered around the mahogany dining table. Spanish sea food pan-frying in the kitchen, she looks to her left and to her right, watching her brothers talk and her sister smile, she wonders if she could ever feel fuller or richer than here and now. Bursting into deep belly laughs, they sit down to share an evening meal and stories of childhood.
Life looks different now than it did back then, but these are the moments she has grown to love the most.
Staying up all night, greeting the early hours of the morning with laughter, dipping feet in the sea and swimming in salty water, walking slowly, granting the sun to kiss her cheeks, setting her eyes on sunsets and rolling hills, consuming big sweet scoops of ice cream and savouring the smell of her mother’s cooking.
Here, surrounded by those she loves, she begins to learn the art of stillness again – remembering this moment, holding it tight, keeping it safe, and keeping it sound.
“Life is more than getting by,” her grandmother tells her, touching the palm of her hand, “These slow days matter too, and even if you feel alone at every other table, in this sea of many, there is a place for you here, always.”