My Pirate Family

My sisters believe that our family is descended from pirates. Pirates! Somehow that really doesn't appeal to me. In one sense, pirates were (are) people who want to survive. You really can't blame people for wanting to survive. I think the history books tell that when ships would wreck on the Outer Banks of North Carolina, people would go down to the shore to collect whatever washed ashore. I guess this was the kin of the pirates and my kin as well. Life does go on for all of us. I feel like one of the people combing the beach for treasures. I want to find a glimmer of hope that I will ever feel happy again. The memory of being at the beach with my love so many times is amazing to me. I can remember my love telling me how his friend was with him and wanted to tell him a happy story about his afternoon. The man told my love that he had been at the beach with his wife in a restaurant looking out at a pier that spread out into the ocean. He said that it was raining and the day looked ugly. Out the window from his restaurant view he could see a man and a woman on the pier having a wonderful time in spite of the bad weather. He was then realized that the man he was watching was his friend, my love, with me in out in the rain. I always loved that story about us. That is the way our life was only a short while ago.