I was in the kitchen making tunafish.

He was in the living room on the big green chair.

His legs were propped, his eyes were glued to PBS

and The Savage Sea-Famous Shipwrecks.

"That's the thing about the sea," he said, "it's relentless."

"I know a few others around here like that," I yelled out

mashing the tuna chunks with a fork.

Hear didn't flinch.

He didn't take the sandwich when I handed it to him either.

His eyes were filled with tears and I knew it wasn't just for

the 2000 people who drowned on the Russian Ferry.

He cries for the sea often. The sea cries back.

I've seen them standing face to face and witnessed their connection.

Their surface beauty and the diversity of life within.

The similarities are striking.

Both have cold, confused, tumultuous moments and I fear them

But they can't help who they are. They are water.

They are a wonder of my world.