Finding Him

   The ocean has always been my sanctuary. I’ve been on the water ever since my dad taught me how to surf when I was eight. Every morning, I get up early and trek out to the beach behind my house with my board to catch some early waves. There, on top of my board watching the most beautiful sunrise is my thinking place. The troubles and stresses of life can’t touch me out there on the water and that’s just the way I like it.

   I’ve had a lot to think about, too, ever since Dad died. He was my rock, my best friend. He surfed too close to the jetties and got hit by a rogue wave. Mom didn’t let me surf for a while after that. She was too scared the same would happen to me, and, to be honest, I was a little scared, too.

   I was in a severe state of depression for a couple months. Then, one day, I couldn’t stand it anymore and I had to get out on the water.
That’s where I found Dad. When I was up on that board riding the perfect wave, he was right there behind me. The water is the only place that I feel complete. Mom still doesn’t get it. She is so afraid that I’m going to get seriously hurt, even killed, but she just doesn’t understand. She can’t feel Dad the way I do.

   I close my eyes as straddle my green and purple board. I feel him there next to me as I bob over some little waves.

This one, Kiles.

   I open my eyes and see the wave a few feet away.
“Perfect, Dad,” I smile as I turn my board and start to paddle. I feel the wave rise up behind me and pop up at just the right time and ride the wave all the way to the shore.

That’s my girl.

“Thanks, Daddy,” I whisper and climb back on my board and paddle out for another set.