So how did my phone end up in the Atlantic Ocean?  Lets start from the beginning, 4 weeks after John died.  I had not found the strength to return to the beach.  I couldnt do it, as that was my place of comfort and place of connection with  my spiritual side.  And being angry and feeling far from spiritual, I couldnt find my way to the beach.  One evening I was sitting on the couch as I did for almost 24 hours a day for 4 weeks in shock, I heard my phone text notification sound.  I picked up my phone and it was a picture message. I was standing on the beach with the sun setting behind me. I recognized this picture from our trip to Clearwater last Spring break. John took the picture and it was on his camera.  I am not cuckoo, nor do I know what to make of signs like this.  So the next day, I went to Vilano beach and met my friend Penny.  I began at the place we got married and started walking.  Along the way, in the surf, I saw something large. I went to pick it up and it was a heart, a yellow heart, not perfect but edgy and made of cement.  I cried. I truly felt this was a sign from John or God.  This occured two more times, and all three hearts are different colors and materials but the same exact size.  There is something to be said for the trinity. Three was John's favorite number.  Every since then, I myself just collect objects on the beach that look like hearts. They are random, odd shaped, and imperfect. These are not from John in  my opinion. These I search out and put in a bowl.  Hearts from the Beach, I call them.  Two nights ago, I went for a beach walk after supper. I normally go right towards where we got married but I went left instead. The sun was setting and noone was on the beach, not a single soul.  About 50 yards into my walk, there it was; a heart drawn into the sand. It was as big as the entire slope of the beach.  It was as big as my classroom.  No words, just a heart drawn into the sand, and noone around.  I started crying. This was in my belief, and its only my own to make, from John or God.  Funny, how I look for hearts and this, yes, counts as a heart.  So I tried to take a picture of it to include in my collection of hearts on the beach.  I must have taken this picture 25 times.  My phone would not keep the picture. So I tried to delete other pictures to no avail.  I was so angry because I needed this picture. I needed it to be concrete.  So I threw my phone into the atlantic ocean and cursed the ocean and screamed at God.  Screamed at John for leaving me here to figure out new situations, and to make decisions that I dont want to make. I walked back to sit on "log on the beach", so named by my sister and I cried. And I talked out loud to noone.  Not sure I want a phone. Its just something to carry around and there's never going to be a phone call from John, or text message telling me how beautiful I am or consoling words.