Visual Prompting

by Michael Murphy, L.C.S.W., C.G.P.

During a workshop at the A.G.P.A. conference this year, each of us was given this image. We were told to begin writing and would stop at 10 minutes. This is what emerged for me:

I don’t miss the ocean. It’s beautiful, but I don’t have a longing to go back, as so many people seem to have.

My mother was one of those people. She loved the ocean. We’d go to Nags Head every summer as a family. We’d drive down from Virginia, and as soon she could smell the salt air, she’d cry tears of joy. We’d tease her about that.

We’d get settled in to our cottage and then head down to the beach. We’d slather ourselves with suntan lotion in hopes of tanning – no sunscreen then. We’d body surf, walk around, sit on the gazebo ...

One day, Dad asked me to go with him to a seafood shack. He bought a half bushel of crabs. Live crabs. We went back to the cottage where he set up the big steamer. When it was ready, he poured the crabs in. One got away, and he gathered it up and put it in the steamer. There was a racket for a moment – and then silence. I was aware they had died. We all sat around the porch table and had a crab feast. They were delicious, and I felt sad.

The days wound down. We had a final swim. We packed up and drove away. Mom cried tears of sadness. We teased her about that.

Her ashes are off that shore.