after long journeying where they
began, catching this
one truth by surprise –
that there is everything to look forward to.

R.S. Thomas, Arrival

So, my sister and I got it into our heads that we had to take a dip in the Irish Sea on this pilgrimage together.

Especially after watching the tv series Bad Sisters.

And this feels like the day for it.

The weather is perfect, and it’s right before dinner.

So we pull on our suits and furtively sneak away from the hotel.

We feel like if anyone knew about this beforehand, we’d feel pressured, and then there’d be no way we could chicken out.

So we have to sneak.

Anyway, we begin our hike down the sandy path to the jagged bluff.

We are up pretty high on the rocks and the view is a gorgeous tableau of kelly green fields set against a swathe of bright blue sea.

I imagine Ireland across the ocean.

And as we wind our way down the cliff, we pass a local woman on her way back up.

Hello! Are you two swimming? she asks

Oh yes! we say

It’s absolutely lovely out there, the woman says

It’s about 68 degrees or so – really nice – enjoy!

Great, thanks – see ya! we reply

---

You know, you reach the other side of 60, and all of the sudden, you look around and you start to see so many of your selves out there in the world.

In the neighborhood, older women walking with sticks, women wearing wide brimmed hats and stretch pants. Women with the same telltale hair as you.

So many lined faces, and bifocals, and all of us with our NPR tote bags.

Women of a certain age, as they say.

---

And this woman that we meet on the path, she is definitely one of us.

But anyway, her sensible demeanor and optimistic attitude when she chats with us, it is so open and generous.

It’s like meeting another sister.

And so with her energy to billow our sails, we practically skip down that sandy embankment.

---

And below, we discover a deserted cove, with a gentle tide – all of it shimmering before sunset – and it is simply pristine.

Soft white sand, and in the valley around us, white puffs of sheep on the hillsides.

And near the water, there is even an ancient rock cave, that yawns wide with neon moss and a trickling spring inside.

Scary …

Should we go in?

No, stay focused – first order of business, get out of our clothes.

Meanwhile, the wind whips at the towels around our legs, and my sister’s lips are turning blue.

Then goosebumps.

If the air is this damn cool, how cold will the ocean be?

Now I’m wondering if my sister will bail, she looks dubious.

She’d better not.

Finally, we fling our clothes onto a huge rock and make a run for the waves.

Slashing out into the frothy surf, with our arms held high, we have no feeling in our legs.

Woo hoooo!

but, oh my God – –

what the –?

my heart seizes *heart attack * this is it – this is the way I’m gonna die.

My breath is caught somewhere in my upper chest and everything below that is numb, paralyzed.

I manage to dunk my head under the surf and it feels like being stung by a million bees.

But here we are, we are swimming.

And then, out we sprint, gasping for air.

What the hell was that old lady thinking?

Was she wearing a full wetsuit?

---

Anyway, I love this jaunt, I love egging my sister on, and being faux wild.

And now we have a new chant, a private footnote to this pilgrimage: We can say we did this. We swam in the Irish Sea.

And it’s clear that this activity is all the more special because we are women of this certain age.

And the simple ritual of this, this pact between us on this Welsh coastline – it marks a milestone in time, in some way.

This being in our 60s.

We recognize all of the decades of watching each other grow and change – with all the struggles, the secrets, the hurts, but mostly, the closeness and camaraderie.

And even the times we’ve been distant, and not as connected, we always circle back to the fact that we are sisters.

And we are so grounded in that.

And now, this pilgrimage has brought us to this tiny beach, in a wee country far from home – to a place outside of time, really.

A sacred place, where we are living fully in the present moment and at the same time witnessing our aging bodies being mirrored back to us.

Yet when I look at my sister, with her wet hair and chattering teeth, I see the same girl I’ve grown up with – and her clear blue eyes are laughing – so alive, so beautiful.

And I just want to have more crazy moments like this – the two of us – for as long as I can.

But what a risky thing to look forward to, to expect, or to even ask for, really.

Still I offer it up, like a tentative prayer:

why not?