Longing to Remember

The old man sat in front of the window, staring out at the white capped waves splashing against the shoreline. He felt uneasy, but couldn't seem to figure out why. The ocean had become both his greatest solace as well as his greatest angst. He could no longer remember why he was drawn to the salty air, nor did he understand the knot he felt deep in his stomach when he would venture out and let the waves kiss his ankles. It was the feeling of unmistakable longing...but for what he did not know.

His days were filled with people coming and going. They said they knew him, loved him. He would just smile, and wonder at why they had such imaginings...for he certainly had no recognition of them. Even the woman who stayed by his side day and night, cooking for him, crawling into his bed...to him she was a stranger, though a very nice stranger who would give herself to him sometimes when the need became great. He had come to feel a certain affection for her, but she said they had been married for many years. She seemed so sincere in her words, but he could not acknowledge that which he had no recollection of.

And then there were those children who were always coming to see him. They called him "grandpa", and he would just smile, wondering what they were talking about. He didn't want to be gruff and hurt their feelings. After all, they were just children, and meant no harm. Most of the time, he'd just play along...and if he was honest with himself, he had to admit he enjoyed playing the part of a grandpa. He loved seeing their faces as he passed out treats and he loved feeling their chubby hands on his face as he would give them a hug. They seemed to know how to make him smile, and that wasn't a bad thing.

He stood up and stretched, and called out to the woman who said she was his wife, "I'm going to walk down to the water for a bit."

"Do you want me to go with you, Dear?"

"No. I'd rather go alone, I think," he said, hoping he wasn't hurting her feelings.

"Okay. Well, don't go far. Dinner will be ready soon."

He opened the door and the ocean breeze found him. Immediately that feeling came over him. It wafted in on the breeze like some mysterious force of nature. For a moment he stood still and breathed deeply, hoping for a revelation. But there was nothing.

He walked on down to the beach, and kicked off his sandals. He walked to the water's edge and watched as the waves lapped his ankles. The foamy crests landed on top of his foot and he stood there watching as the sand sucked away, leaving his imprint there. He heard laughter. A woman's laughter and it was so real and so vivid, yet he saw nowhere that melodious sound could be coming from. Yet it was a sound so familiar to him. It comforted him in someway. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to remember. But there was nothing.

He began to walk, and he loved the way the cool sand felt as his toes dug deep. A man and woman ran past him, and they were talking and laughing as they ran side by side. He couldn't help but wonder if he had ever done the same. He saw some kids building a sand castle, and as he walked by, a little red haired girl caught his eye. She was so cute, and had such a happy look on her face. He picked up two pretty shells and gave them to her to decorate her castle with. She looked up at him and said, "Thank you, Sir."

And then it hit him. Like a beautiful apparition out of nowhere, suddenly she was there...a fiery haired woman with laughter like a song. He closed his eyes and the image became clearer. She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him softly on the lips before pulling him along with her into the water. He opened his eyes for a moment, and then closed them again quickly before she left him.

He remembered. She had been real, though her name was lost to him. He remembered loving her. He remembered the way she had made him feel back then when he was younger. Even now, just the thought of her had the same effect on him. They had spent many days at the ocean, loving and laughing. He closed his eyes again, hoping her image would come back to him. How beautiful she had been! Now, he knew why the ocean made him feel the way that it did.

But who was she? Where was she? He wanted to see her again. The need overwhelmed him.

His thoughts were interrupted by a voice in the distance. "Dinner is ready, dear! We're waiting for you!"

He breathed a sigh and headed back toward the house, a feeling of melancholy overtaking him. He wanted to find her. He needed to find her again.

He opened the door to the house and the smell of fresh baked apple pie assailed his senses. The woman who lived with him made the best apple pie. It always put a smile on his face. They ate in front of the sliding glass doors, and the breeze wafted in on them as they ate in silence.

The feeling overtook him again as he looked out toward the ocean. That feeling of both solace and longing. But once again, he couldn't remember where the feeling came from. He continued to eat his pie in silence, wishing he could remember his life.

"No. I'd rather go alone, I think," he said, hoping he wasn't hurting her feelings.

"Okay. Well, don't go far. Dinner will be ready soon."

He opened the door and the ocean breeze found him. Immediately that feeling came over him. It wafted in on the breeze like some mysterious force of nature. For a moment he stood still and breathed deeply, hoping for