First Draft of Memoir

“Knee deep in the water somewhere

Got the blue sky breeze blowin’ wind through my hair

Only worry in the world is the tide gonna reach my chair…."

 

~Knee Deep, Zac Brown Band

 

I remember the first time I felt absolute, total, complete, unconstrained freedom.

It was the sweet heart of summertime, and the most gloriously beautiful four days that Cannon Beach has ever seen or ever will see as far as I’m concerned. We packed up the car and drove off into the rising sun with the windows down and the radio up, our smiles wide and our souls flying like sparrows released from a cage.

Fifteen had been a hard year for me. I imagine it’s tough for everyone as a freshie, but I wasn’t just a freshie. I was a completely naïve, totally sheltered, home-schooled-until-high-school freshie. I’d never been in school “like normal kids” before, and all year I’d felt myself torn between my new world and my old. I desperately wanted to belong to both, but when it was clear the old world no longer wanted me, I turned regretfully to the new. I liked my new life, but I missed the things I’d never had and always wanted. My new friends were something I wasn’t used to. For the first time the people around me seemed to genuinely care about me without my having to prove myself worthy. It wasn’t until August going into my sophomore year that I decided to throw away all the hurt and pain and lies that had been building up inside me over the past fourteen months, and choose to remember who I really was: not perfect, never going to be perfect, but accepted and forgiven by grace.

After cutting almost all ties with the people I’d so hopelessly wanted to be accepted by, I felt new. I was me, but a different me. A me ready to face the world with a hopeful heart and a carefree spirit.

The first step I took was setting out to leave my worries and troubles behind me. My sister and my friend and I went on a getaway to my happiest place on earth: Cannon Beach.As we drove into the little shore town and the blue waves became visible over the crest of the last hill, my summer song crooned across the radio, carrying a message of simple contentment and total freedom.

Only worry in the world is the tide gonna reach my chair....

Those four blissful days were some of the happiest of my life. For me there will always be something magical about the ocean. Its power allures me, its beauty thrills me, and its Maker amazes me. I remember dancing on the sand with the salty sea wind whipping through my hair and the sound of my friend and sister’s laughter ringing loud and clear. They were laughing at me, my sister and Rachel, and I laughed with them. I didn’t mind.

Because I was free.

These few years later I’ve realized something about the four days in August. They weren’t my first days of freedom because I was away from home without my parents with the ability to eat pizza for every meal, sleep until two, go star tripping and sit staring at the sea for hours on end. They were my first days of freedom because for the first time in my life I knew who I was and I knew it was my choice to become that person. I believed for myself, not because anyone told me to, or because it was just what I’d always done and accepted as the truth. My soul was alive again after being lost and dead.

And when I remember those days I think to myself....

 

 

 

I think I might have found me my own kind of paradise.