A Cape Cod Prayer
The tide recedes, but leaves behind
bright seashells on the sand.
The sun goes down, but gentle warmth
still lingers on the land.
The music stops, yet echoes on
in sweet, soulful refrains.
For every joy that passes,
something beautiful remains.
I constantly write about how friendships you build while growing up on Cape Cod are different from anywhere else. Sure, a lot of that has to do with small towns and long winters, but it’s more than that.
Cape Cod friendships are something I hope everyone has the privilege to be a part of. There’s no deeper love, loyalty or understanding – Cape Cod friendships are unbreakable.
We unfortunately learn at a young age that tragedy strikes often and most likely when we least expect it. Whether it’s a car accident, a drug overdose or a poor choice, we’ve all had people we know, love and grew up with leave us far too soon. But we cannot save people, we can only love them.
Tragedy strikes no matter where you live or how you grew up. But there is nothing worse than signing onto Facebook to see the far too familiar “R.I.P.” status all over your newsfeed. Your heart begins to pound as you try and figure out who it could be they’re referring to and how it happened. Then the phone calls and text messages start coming in. It doesn’t matter how close you were to the now deceased because chances are someone you are close with, someone you love very much, was one of their good friends, and their pain is yours.
I can’t explain it, but if you’re from the Cape, you know exactly what I’m talking about. The confusion, the anger and the “what could I have done to stop it?” begins to set in. You think about the last time you saw that person and what was said. You begin to remember everyone else who has passed away that you maybe shared a locker with in high school, played on the same sports team or even dated. You never feel more alone than in that moment.
But what I’ve learned, is that you’re never alone when you grew up like we did because this is when we thrive and come together to prove how deeply routed and strong our friendships are. This is when we remind each other that death ends a life, not a friendship. You have a line of people at your front door with hot meals and open arms before you’ve even had a chance to process everything. They’ll pour you a shot, share stories about The Departed or just sit in silence if that’s what it takes. They stand in line for hours to pay their respects and you can’t keep track of all the cards and phone calls you receive.
They show up before you even know you needed them. And more importantly, they stay.
That’s love. That’s loyalty. That’s a Cape Cod Friendship.
Rest easy and may the waves carry you home.Facebook: The Real Cape
Twitter: Hippie - Insane Tony
More Articles From The Real Cape: