There, I found peace staring at the ocean. I had come to the shore at the end of the 1990s from a life I could no longer endure in upscale Connecticut. This was before the Jersey shore became the in place and pricey. The neighborhood was blue collar.
In 2001, convinced I could now handle Connecticut, I had sold the cottage. I went back twice to gaze at it, and then told myself I had to get over the mistake of selling it and returning to the yuppie life I had hated in Connecticut.
Oh, eventually after series of severe setbacks ( Download Geezerguts), I learned to live where I was living. As they say, we bring ourselves wherever we go. I got it that it was me.
After therapy in 2003 and the struggle to put my life together, I never returned to the Jersey shore. Now, as the news reports, there isn't much left at the shore to return to. Sandy whacked it good. To me that signals that the memories of my time-out have been pulled out to the ocean. They are gone. Maybe the universe sent me a very personal message that Connecticut is where I must make a home.