Turquoise.  No, not turquoise exactly, more of an aqua.  Yeah, that’s it.  Or maybe blue-green?  Blue-green but also transparent.  Clear and shimmery at the same time, glowing as if illuminated from within.

I can’t stop staring.  I’m spellbound.  I am like a moth drawn to the flame.  It is so beautiful.  I have never seen water like this.  Sure, I have been to the beach hundreds of times, probably thousands.  As a native Florida kid I practically grew up at the beach.  My parents would pick me up from school to go windsurfing.  I would ride on the back of the board with my dad and we would jet off from Dunedin Causeway towards Caladesi Island with the wind whipping in our hair and the salty spray a greeting from a familiar friend.

But this water is different.  The Maldives is like nothing I have ever seen.  If this were a Hemmingway novel, the water would be its own character, beckoning with a siren’s song – “come explore” – waiting until the boat was out in the open and the shore had slipped beneath the horizon – to attack with a vengeful fury.  This water is alive.  The Indian Ocean glimmers under the tropical sun, a sea of infinite diamonds and endless possibilities.  Under the surface, the water teams with life.  Clownfish dart in and out of sea anemones to their own rhythm like improbable Flamenco dancers.  Angelfish, triggerfish, parrotfish, and wrasse swarm the reef under the watchful eyes of black tip reef sharks and moray eels.  Little shrimp gobies faithfully guard their territory while Hawksbill turtles lounge about the reef.  Further away from the protection of the reef lurk giant trevally and barracuda.  The manta rays pay no attention to any of it, flying in the distance in underwater acrobatic flips and turns.

What is your favorite beach destination?  If you could pick any beach on earth, where would it be?  Let’s take an imaginary trip.  Close your eyes for a moment and picture the destination.  Maybe it has a wide sandy beach with lush tropical mountains spilling down to the shore.  Maybe there are wild parrots that squawk to one another as you sleep beneath a coconut palm reading your favorite book.  Can you feel the sand beneath you and the warm prickly sensation of the sun on your skin?   Listen.  Can you hear the waves?  Are they calm, angry, agitated?  Can you smell the Hawaiian Tropic Sunscreen?  Is the beach crowded?  Is it deserted?  Are you with friends or family?

Now that you have the destination, what will you pack?  Are you ready?  Okay.  Let’s skip past the drive to the airport and the announcements from the flight attendants.  Let’s assume the Ambien you took on the flight did its job.  You fell fast asleep and you wake up just as the plane is touching down.  The landing jars you awake and you wipe the drool from the corner of your mouth and stretch your back and arms.  As the plane comes to a complete stop, you stand up and stretch your legs.  You grab your bag in the overhead compartment and walk down the aisle toward your tropical dream vacation.  You packed your mask and snorkel in your carry-on because you can’t wait to get in the water.  In fact, everything is packed in your carry-on because you won’t need much, just your flip-flops, bathing suit, sunscreen and book.  As you step off the plane onto the stairs, snow-capped mountains surround you.  Instead of the salty beach air, you smell fresh cut summer grass.  Cowbells clang gently in the distance.  Welcome to Switzerland!

This isn’t the Maldives!  This isn’t the beach at all!  What am I going to do in Switzerland?!  This isn’t what I signed up for!  You start to step back into the plane, and the flight attendant gives you a polite but firm shove, “I’m sorry, you must depart the plane” she says.

What do you do now?  You had your heart set on a beach vacation.  Just moments earlier you could see the reef in your mind and were studying your waterproof fish guide.  Now, stepping off the plane into the brisk Alpine air, you feel ridiculous with your Panama hat and linen shirt.  You have no plans for Switzerland.  You know nothing about Switzerland.  You don’t want to be in Switzerland.  You didn’t pack for Switzerland.  You don’t have hiking boots.  You don’t have any warm clothes.  You are not prepared!  “THIS ISN’T MY DESTINATION!!!” you want to scream, but no one seems to care.  Switzerland is where you are and Switzerland is where you’ll stay.

Henry’s death has felt like this to me, like being unexpectedly transported to a different country.  I had made my plans and packed my bags but the plane landed somewhere else and now my plans have changed against my will.  People talk about getting better or getting over it, but I don’t think that really captures what it’s like.  I will never “get over” Henry’s death.  It will always hurt, even if the pain feels different at different times.  I lose him in little pieces – putting away his clothes, throwing away the last diaper that he wore, setting out two place settings at the Pottery Barn Carolina kids play table that previously held three.  People in loss don’t get over it so much as we simply learn to live with a new normal, in a new country that we didn’t choose, but that can still be good.

I’m learning a lot about Switzerland.  I think it could be a happy place even if it was not the destination I chose.  True, there aren’t any tropical beaches, but the mountains are amazing.  The Lauterbrunnen Valley is impossibly beautiful. Trümmelbach falls roars with thunder as the snowmelt cuts through the mountain in a jagged zigzag.  I may not be able to sleep under a palm tree, but there is serenity lying in the summer grass in Gimmelwald watching the cows graze in a distant meadow perched precariously above the valley floor.  Instead of the reef and manta rays, I have the Eiger, Monch, and Jungfrau mountains.  There is so much to do, even if I won’t get to use my dive gear.    I think I am going to like it.  You gain a perspective in the mountains that wouldn’t have been possible at sea level.  There are a lot of other hikers here in Switzerland.  I meet them all the time.  Like me, they are charting new paths.  Sometimes we walk together.  Sometimes I help them scramble over a boulder that they can’t conquer on their own.  Sometimes the weight of my pack is too heavy and they help me carry it.  I didn’t set out to be in Switzerland but it is a beautiful place.

Are you in a place of loss?  Has death, illness, professional setback, or a broken relationship transported you to a new and unexpected country?  Are you struggling to reconcile the dreams of what should have or could have been with the reality of what is?  There is no going back.  You can only move forward.  Embrace your loss and learn to live with your new normal.  You can sit around crying about not going to the beach or you can get some hiking boots.  Summit clear mountain peaks and look on in wonder at the valleys below.  You will meet new travelers along the way.  You will have new adventures.  There will be pain and challenge, heartbreak and healing, but the journey can still be beautiful.  Welcome to Switzerland.