Duin Sewe

While in Wallis Bay, Viking arranged a trip to ‘Valley of the Moon’ to observe sunset and the stars. This was in response to the ship’s delay for weather conditions and an attempt by the cruise line to ensure passengers had a meaningful ‘excursion’ during our short stay in port. In order to accommodate our large numbers, it seemed every tour guide and off road vehicle across the whole of Namibia had been scrounged up to assist.

On our way out to the valley, we (hundreds of Viking passengers) stopped at ‘Dune 7’. I was alone because Stacy was sick and had stayed back on the ship. As I was quietly observing the breathtaking views (in this massive crowd), a tour guide approached me and simply asked, “Do you want a rock?” I replied, “Yes!” Why this man picked me out of the crowd, I don’t know. As he began to tell me about the rock, we got interrupted to reload vehicles and continue on. I wanted to know all about the rock so I tried to remember the man’s weathered looks and shaggy blonde hair before we got underway.

At the Valley of the Moon, I looked and looked but the man just wasn’t there. I settled into listening to music and watching people dance. I silently witnessed the sun set ever so slowly revealing a sliver of moon along with the Southern Cross. It was magnificent. But that’s not the story!

Here is the story…

When my twin brother died in 1995, I made a practice of spreading a little bit of his ashes wherever I went. In return, I would pick up a rock from the same place and bring it back to his urn. Over the last 29 years, I have done this, slowly filling up his urn with rocks as I spread his ashes. It was my quiet way of trying to share my life with him.

When we embarked on this World Cruise, I realized I had forgotten his ashes. I was distraught about it. I couldn’t believe it! How could I?! I had to keep letting it go but I would slip back into feeling terrible about it. Recently, I thought I should have been collecting rocks, at least. Even if I didn’t spread any ashes, I could still bring back rocks for the urn. But, by the time I thought of that, we had completed too much of the trip. I fell deeper into sadness about it all and was downright angry with myself.

Then, this happened. In the middle of the oldest desert in the world, a man singles me out and hands me a rock that is, itself, millions of years old. Then, the man disappears.

I now have one very special rock that I believe was a gift from my twin brother, Dewey, who came to see me for just a moment to show me he is still out there in the universe and he is still here with me. That he loves me as I love him. And, I needn’t worry about falling short. It’s all okay exactly as it is. What a gift! I was overcome with emotion and gratitude for this evening spent side by side with my brother after all these years and in such an incredible place - a 55 million year old desert where there is no rain - or tears - depending on how I look at it. 🩷Read more