Amy and I first climbed the bluffs above Zuma after moving from New York to California some years ago. As we sat there, eyes wide open taking in the amazing sights and sounds from the majestic bluffs, a school of dolphins suddenly appeared playing in the white foam waters below us. Amy smiled with a wall of teeth like a little child who had just opened the very Christmas gift she had been wishing for but didn't think she'd get. We watched the dolphins swimming, appearing and disappearing in the yankee blue waters. We both laughed with joy as I held her in my arms. All that day she could not stop talking about seeing dolphins in the wild, playing right beneath us. On November 2nd 2009 at 9:40am, exactly three years to the minute when I lost her to cancer, I returned to those bluffs and freed Amy's ashes back to the sand and sea she loved so much. First I put my handprint in the wet sand, then placed her ashes in my palm print and watched as the waves rushed over us. I moved up and down the beach repeating this many times. It felt as though Amy and I were together playing in the sand without a care in the world. I then climbed to the top of the bluffs and buried some of her ashes in a deep hole I'd dug in the sand, along with one of the small Polar Bear figures she had given me and a favorite picture of the two of us. I took the rest of her ashes and let them fly off the bluffs, sailing into the beautiful calling waters. I felt at that moment Amy was finally free and would get to spend eternity in a place she loved. As I walked back to our '94 Explorer, head down hiding silent tears, a young lady called out and said "Are you watching this"? I said "What"? She pointed below the bluffs where I'd just been. I looked up to see a school of dolphins swimming and playing right where, just minutes before, I'd set Amy free. Her dolphins had returned to escort her on her journey home... My love for you will never die, Jimmy http://jimmyyessian.com/not-a-wave-goes-by