Day 23: The Sand Story

When I was four years old, my older brothers thought it would be funny to bury me in the sand up to my neck. They dug a deep hole, I jumped in, and they packed the sand tightly around me. Then they ran away, scared of getting in trouble. I could not breathe. I was turning blue. A neighbor saw me from his window and ran down to dig me out. That day, my four-year-old brain made a decision: people who love you leave. I carried that decision for forty years. Every relationship, every friendship, every moment of closeness, I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. When I started lying down with my eyes open and watching my thoughts like waves, I eventually saw that wave — the “people who love you leave” wave. I watched it rise, watched it fall. And I realized that the decision was made by a child. As an adult, I was allowed to choose again. So I did. I watched the wave until it stopped coming back.