I've always loved the sea.

Coming from a family of fishermen, some of my fondest childhood memories are close to her.

I remember my grandfather bringing home octopuses and sea bass which he had just caught with his speargun. My mother would cook them and we all gathered around an old plastic white table to eat. Sweet, simple but beloved moments.

Many times my grandfather would take me with him when he went fishing. I remember sitting on the sand and waiting for him to come out of the water. He could swim for hours. It was as if he was in his element there.

One day I asked him:
- Aren't you scared of being there all these hours? The sea is dangerous.
- The road to the sea is more dangerous than her. He replied.

Years later, I thought that the sea probably acted as a portal for him.
A portal to another dimension, probably more beautiful and affectionate than the ours.

The water embraced his body offering a sense of comfort and coziness. The buoyancy took away his weight making him fly. The already inordinate admiration and love he had for animals further increased as he observed the aquatic creatures around him.

He seemed like a hero to my eyes.

A man who had a deep connection with one of the most mysterious environments on our planet. The sea scares most of us. But it never frightened him.

He was one of the" old ones " as we say in Greece. A man who knew how to do everything with his own hands. After all, he had built the whole house in the village by himself.

He had no fear for the natural world and remained active and vigorous until the last years of his life.

I felt a vast sadness when he passed away. He was the first family member I lost and so I felt the newfound feeling of emptiness left by the death of someone you love.

I still feel sad sometimes. Sad because I didn't have time to enjoy him in my mature, adult life. Because he didn't get to see the kid become a man. To see me become what he believed I could be.

I know a part of him lives inside me. And that another lives in the element he so dearly loved. Water.

I still see him sometimes when I go to the sea.

Looking at the endless blue horizon, my mind thinks that he’s somewhere out there, swimming.

Swimming, exploring and marveling the wonders of the aquatic kingdom.

As I lay on the warm sand, I hear his voice in the soft howling of the cool summer wind: "Look at what I caught" he says, and I get up excitedly to see.
I open my eyes and realize it was a game of my imagination.

A gap between my chest is suddenly created.
But I look before me, the vast deep blue and a few seagulls gliding playfully in the wind currents.

The waves, their white foam and the rhythm at which they burst on the shore.

A cool breeze blows and gently touches me on the shoulder. The void fills up and a slight smile appears on my face.

I see him.

I know how he is in all the elements of the world he so dearly loved.

I know he's with her.

I know he’s at the sea.