180. The Whale

Listener Kathleen shares a story about a whale sighting on a recent family vacation, and how it helped her through the grief of not having her dad there.

Transcripts may not appear in their final version and are subject to change.

Nora: I’m Nora McInerny, and it’s going to be okay.  This podcast is a group project. We know that a lot of things aren’t okay and never will be. So we’re here every weekday sharing an okay thing so that you can start or end your day with the opposite of a doom scroll.  Do you deal the okay thing is different for all of us every day.

And today’s okay thing came through email from a listener named Kathleen.  

I went on a cruise recently, and it was a beautiful, magical time. Except when it wasn’t.  I kept missing my dad, who would have loved a vacation where he could watch the water the entire time.  And I was with so much family who wasn’t my dad, and mostly didn’t know him, which, somehow, and sometimes, just made the sneaky moments of grief worse. 

My dad loved to sit on the balcony on our beach vacations, watching the ocean.  He would head out early in the morning to get donuts. Then he’d quietly, but not quietly at all, make coffee. Side note, dads can’t make coffee quietly. My dad couldn’t. My husband, who is a dad, cannot. They just can’t do it.  Back to the email.

He’d settle into the chair on the deck and then drink his coffee, eat a few donuts, maybe read the paper, and wait for the rest of us to get up.  We’d wander out to join him hours later, donut in hand, the small balcony getting more and more crowded. Getting the morning report on what he’d seen while we all slept. 

How you doing, Princess? Sleep okay? Beautiful morning, isn’t it? Look at those waves. It’s going to be a good beach day. I saw three pods of dolphins this morning, just playing along. Keep an eye out. I bet we’ll see more.  I found a few minutes to be alone on the day at sea,  far away from the ocean I used to look at with my dad. 

And I missed him.  It’s been almost three years since he died. But dementia stole so many pieces of him before that.  I wandered out onto the deck alone,  and I stared out at the sea in front of me.  Suddenly, a tail hit the water, sending up a splash. A whale! It’s a whale! I thought to myself, but out loud. I heard the words, and I snuck a peek to see if anyone heard me talking to myself. 

I barely finished my exclamation to no one when I heard a voice, Oh, a whale! Exciting! I turned, and a man nearby was smiling back at me.  Guessing he was the owner of that voice, I asked, Did you see it too?  He shook his head no, and then added, but you seem to really want to share that moment, and a whale is exciting. 

We stood next to each other for a few moments longer, looking out, and then he left me on my own again.  I realized I should go rejoin my family. They really are great, even if they aren’t my dad.  And for a moment, I was the one on the balcony, pointing out to the sea, and waiting for everyone to get up so I could tell them what I had seen. 

I don’t think I saw that man again for the rest of the cruise, but honestly, he blended right in.  White hair, slow but still going on his way,  his attentive, um,  White hair, slow but still going on his way, gate,  and his attentive wife nearby.  I’m grateful our paths crossed that day and that moment on the deck. 

I did want to tell someone what I saw, to not be alone, to share a moment of delight.  It was one of those moments where I thought,  It’s going to be okay.  And this time,  the it was me.  

Oh god, that one was so beautiful. Jeez, Louise.