The movie Spanglish was the first time I’ve ever even heard of this thing called sea glass. Little bits of broken bottles, and garbage are tumbled in the ocean waves. Run through the tides to create rounded pebbles of pastel colors. I wanted so badly to find sea glass of my own. I would scour the shores of Fontana Beach on Geneva Lake, the closest thing to an ocean I knew. Finally we went on a vacation to Puerta Vallarta, Mexico. My mother and I searched up and down the beach in the early hours of the morning in order to find seashells, and maybe if we were lucky sea glass. It was something she and I shared, we loved the simple beauty of this thing we had never seen ourselves.
Recently we found out that you can search for beach glass in our very own backyard, Kenosha, WI. The shores of Lake Michigan churn up these gorgeous treasures that started as trash.
My mother is very particular of the pieces she picks up. She wants to make sure each piece is perfectly clouded and soft to the touch, absolutely no sharp edges. Occasionally I’ll pick up a piece and show it to her and she’ll respond “Nope, it’s not ready yet. Throw it back to the waves.” And, isn’t that exactly how people are? We get tossed around in the waves of life. We’re tumbled and polished and tossed on shore. We may be picked up and treasured forever, but we may not be ready yet. We may get tossed back into the water until we’re perfectly rounded.