Salt Creek Beach

The paved pedestrian path that leads down the slope toward Salt Creek Beach is interesting in its own right. It passes beneath a concrete bridge that supports Ritz Carlton Drive, where a mural of blue dolphins and other sea creatures swim on the walls. A long sloping grassy hill flanks the path, overlooking the vast ocean and Catalina Island in the distance. At the foot of the hill one can see the breaking waves that come systematically one after the other.

Our family walks down the path carrying our towels, sunglasses, cameras—encumbered also with a helium canister and six red roses. We probably look out of place.

Well-dressed people leash up their high-end dogs for a walk to the beach. Surfers in black wet suits walk barefoot, with tether cords wrapped around their boards. A lone player shoots hoops on a basketball half-court at the bottom of the hill.

At last we reach a final flight of stairs to the beach. Salt Creek Beach is very beautiful. The white sand is as fine as any that I've seen. Large cliffs hanging with vegetation surround the beach. One cliff is more prominent than the rest and on top is the Ritz Carlton Hotel.  From our angle we can see a few tiny people leaning over a railing.

(I have a friend who once worked at the Ritz Carlton while living in Laguna Niguel. He was a valet, parking expensive cars for a cast of celebrities. He told of parking Ozzy Osbourne's car, and how he used a cane and walked like a crippled old man—hardly the same person seen on stage.)

The ocean water coming in off the waves is crystal clear. I feel like I could drink it. The water is shallow here, scarcely rising above the shins for several dozen feet. Beyond the shallow area, a cast of surfers bob up and down on the waves, looking for a bite.

We find our own spot on the beach and Jenelle sits down on the sand and removes the canister from the box and two bags of balloons. One by one she inflates the balloons with helium, ties them off, lashes a ribbon, cuts the string at about three feet, then hands them to me. In about ten minutes I am holding fourteen purple and three white balloons.

Jenelle sets up the tripod and we pose for a family portrait while Jordan holds all seventeen balloons in his left hand, fist clinched tight to keep the balloons from drifting away.

Then Jenelle hands the balloons out: three purple to Jordan, three purple to Kaitlyn, three purple to Jenna, three purple to Savanah, two purple to me, and keeps the three whites for herself.

Today represents three years that Brittany has been gone.

My wife and I have lost a daughter, and our kids have lost a sister. Fourteen purple balloons represent the fourteens amazing years that we spent with her on earth; three white balloons represent the three years she has lived in heaven.

Jenna and Savanah release their balloons first, and shortly after, Jordan and Kaitlyn. Jenelle is the last to release, and we all watch as the cluster of colored bubbles drifts high and inland, above the Laguna Cliffs and in a northeastern direction. The white balloons become difficult to follow, being a less prominent color and smaller than the purple. As we crane our necks, I'm sure we have the attention of others on the beach who are craning their necks also, curious of our little ceremony.

Once the balloons are out of sight, Jenelle hands a rose to each of the girls. There is nothing formal about the roses. It is a little something to remember Brittany. Savanah walks over to the edge of the lapping waves and tosses the flower into the water and watches it sucked up in the backwash, tossed inside the waves, and washed back to shore. The rose looks very pretty when it sits upon the heavy sand, laying on its side, the red petals resting gently on the sandy pillow.

A sad truth with death is that we must move on.

Jenna finds a section of the beach where a vertical strata of long black rocks protrude from the surface like spines of lava. Adjacent are a series of tide pools. Up against the shore where the waves have washed at high-tide is a layer of smooth black pebbles and sea shells. Many of the pebbles are pierced with perfectly smooth holes. The shells come in crazy shapes, some with wild growths that look like organ pipes. She is excited to tell us of her find.

Salt Creek Beach is a great people-watching place. There are swimmers, surfers, children building sand castles, photographers, sun bathers, and women pushing strollers.

Before we leave, I notice that the roses have been arranged around a conical mound with a moat surrounding it, and decorated somewhat elegantly. I ask Jenelle about it and she says that some little girls “found” them laying on the beach and decided to make a sand castle with them. I'll bet this made Brittany happy as she watched from above. She was always the imaginative type who loved to play with children. ♠