Lessons from Bracelet Bay: Part 2 of the Holiday Journey
So, what about the rest of the holiday? It was great! I managed to consume heavenly food, and the ice cream in Wales is scrumptious. I took advantage of the fact that I could get chocolate mint chip anytime they had it in the ice cream parlour. It was wonderful to enjoy every bite of that ice cream. I had the most delectable fish and chips at Langland Bay. The traditional Sunday lunch was a walk back into childhood and my mother’s cooking. Eating with friends, sharing a meal in a local pub where they served up Sunday lunch in two settings was the only way to do it while enjoying their company. Being able to binge listen to podcasts (and not be thought of as rude) was a cure for long years of working and stress. I warned my host/hostess about my binging need, and I’m glad they each honored my need to enjoy it guilt free.
While I was there, Queen Elizabeth’s life came to an end. It was interesting to observe the process. The British do pomp better than any other nation. What an experience and a joy to watch with friends who had lived their lives while she was queen.
This portion of the holiday wasn’t about the food, or the learning: it was about setting Jon’s ashes free. There were two stages in the process.
It began at The Shack, this quirky, quiet cottage that has the best chaise longue in the universe. We could have stayed on that longue for, forever! The host, Helen, was delightful and accommodating to my almost-blind needs. Helen was incredible and helpful, as neither Sara nor I had been to the area before.
One of the things I needed to do in the first few days was to scout out the bays for the one I wanted to scatter Jon’s ashes into. Sara and I spent Thursday and Friday looking at bays.
South Wales has some incredible bays; the views are spectacular. I was certain I’d find the right place.
Exploring My Options
Caswell Bay is a happy place with its welcoming benches, café, and yummy food. Sitting on the benches and chatting was wonderful, and while the bay and the water were accessible, it wasn’t the right place.
The drive into Oxwich Bay was a normal drive—until we came up over a rise to this amazing and stunning view! This happened more than once in our travels. While this beach was the most accessible of all beaches, it wasn’t the one. I sat and took it all in. It was playful and wonderful, and I’d go back.
Langland Bay, full of people, sunny and warm, was wonderful, and the restaurant that served up my fish and chips has an incredible view. The tides in that area dictate beach access. It also meant that to get to the water, I would have needed to cross some difficult areas. While it was a wonderful place, it just didn’t do it for me.
Then there was Bracelet Bay. The moment I saw it, breathed the air, and looked at what was there, my heart was stolen! The ice cream was lemon—and the first ice cream I had in Wales. It did not disappoint.
The bay holds my heart with its lighthouse that I had seen as we drove into the area. I would have loved to see it up close, but not this time.
As I looked at Bracelet Bay, it called to me: Here! Here! But the beach was not accessible to me. It is accessible. This is where I wanted the ashes to go. My heart sank. AND, on the other side of the lighthouse: a pier! Where was its access? I wanted that pier. I sang “I left my heart in Bracelet Bay” to the tune of “I left my heart In San Francisco” because I had fallen in love. Sara got it.
My time with Sara ended on a Monday morning: Goodbye Mumbles, shack, and on to an area I was in love with. We drove to my next destination, and to the couple that would be with me when the ashes were spread.
Hello, warm and love-filled home! I’ve been lucky to know Grace and her husband, Ken, for several years now. The home, and these people, wrapped me in care. The cold from hell continued to rage. I rested, binged, and enjoyed the fact that when with Grace, you enjoy her enjoying her tea.
I informed them that when the weather was behaving, we’d be off to spread the ashes. I will admit to being concerned that Wales would rain on me, and I’d miss my chance to do what I needed to do. I found out that Ken knew where to park to get to the pier. Hope was alive! I relaxed and trusted that it would happen. That Wednesday morning, we put the ashes in the boot, and around noon, with the sky not promising a blue pallet, we set out for Caswell Bay.
Lunch was delightful, and as I sat in the café the urge hit me. Ken and I walked onto the beach for confirmation of what I was thinking. No, not here. As we neared the car, the sky dumped rain. As we drove into town, my heart sank. Rain. NO, not now! And yet, it was present. Would I ever free the ashes?
Joe’s Ice Cream Parlour called to me, and I let my heart enjoy some incredible vanilla. It is wonderful! I’ll go back for more. Then, a quick pop into a shop, and on exit, sun!!!! Glorious sun and, yes, I wanted to go to the pier on Bracelet Bay!
You really don’t want to script this type of thing, and I didn’t. I knew where I wanted to put the ashes. What I would say either silently or speak out loud would happen.
I had run several things through my head. I had sat with this for six years of grief work. Yet, at the moment of release, my heart went to a quiet, sacred place. I spoke to myself, for this was mine, and mine alone. A silent “I love you” as the ashes left their container. As the ashes hit the water, there was only love. I had done the work of healing the pain, the hurt, the anger, and the struggle. There was nothing but love in my heart. His ashes were now in the water; they were free, and so was I.
I allowed myself the pleasure of a whimsical fantasy that now, Jon was exploring the bay, making friends, and asking lots of questions. For me it is a fun, harmless fantasy that expanded on who he was in life. I let the playfulness stand.
I was pleasantly surprised that all the anger had left me. When it was time to let go in fullness, there was no anger to be had. Six years, crying, angry, hurt by what he’d said to me in the last fifteen minutes of our life together. While I remember the words, the pain is gone. I had thought that I’d explode in anger; I didn’t. I had allowed myself to do the work of navigating through grief, to accept, to give time the chance to work on me. I had not turned from the difficult work. I have faced it head-on and accepted the process. I’ve run the river well. Six years later, it was time to set the ashes, and myself, free. It was a closing that I can look back on and move forward into something new.