I looked for a pebble that could contain my sins from the past year.  I found one that seemed to fit – round, smooth, but not perfect, a good size and nice weight in my hand.  It would caste into the sea nicely.  As I marched toward the sea, the cold sand sobered me to the task.  As I got closer I thought of all my faults, and they were many, and I started to cry and repeat, “I’m sorry” over and over again. I’m sorry for the ugly things I scream at my children out of anger and fear.  Mostly fear.  I’m sorry for the cursing – God, the cursing. It flows freely from my mouth, like air from my nostrils.  I’m so sorry.

But these are superficial sins.  They don’t even begin to scratch the surface of my more grave offenses.  Like losing my faith.  Like losing hope.  Losing my will to live.

Lately, (can I call it lately, if it’s really been 2 years), I’ve lost my faith. I don’t pray anymore.  I doubt G-d’s existence.  And with my faith, my hope has gone as well.  And when hope is gone, then really, why are we even here? My name seems to be fading from the Book of Life.  G-d appears to be indifferent to me, and I to Him.  I’ve been feeling lost for so long, I no longer know the way home.  Or so I think.  Rituals without belief are kind of like smiling when you’re not happy – eventually, you begin to feel happy again.  Even if you were just faking it to begin with.

So I hold my pebble and think of all of my faults.  I think about what I shitty mother I am.  I think about my resentment and expectations and how I fall short every time.  I think about how ungrateful I’ve been for this abundant life that I live.  I haven’t even been able to fake being grateful.  And the tears start to fall as I realize what I shitty human I am.  Ungrateful, unbelieving, unhopeful – and yet….

I stare at the sea, it’s deep turquoise changing to sea foam green and white, over and over again.  The seagulls seem to stand as witnesses to my atonement.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.  I see the beauty of the ocean, the sand and shells.  I listen to the comforting noise roll over me again and again.  I walk toward the waves, my face feeling the sea spray like cleansing holy water.  I lift my arm, and hurl the pebble into the abyss.  And I am forgiven.  I am atoned.

I walk back to the car, feeling lighter.  I smile.  And it doesn’t feel fake.  I think my name is solidly in the Book of Life again, not fading, not disappearing – at least for one more year.