'Faith in the Unseen'

Grotto Bay has a marvelous breakfast buffet- complete with everything one could possibly imagine. I was taken by the watermelon sculpture on the fruit bar. After an omelette and a few coffees, I would head to church to start the day.

Due to a lapse in my memory (i.e. how long Bermuda is), I miscalculated the length of time to get to Peace Lutheran. I was a few minutes late, and it cost $30. to get there! Perhaps time to revisit the map of Bermuda. 

Side note: I wish they had a map of Bermuda that was labeled in segments of taxi fare. It would help prepare for outings!

I walked in, having missed the beginning of the service- including the sharing of the peace. The Pastor was in the midst of his announcements. Recognizing me from afar, he said, "And it's nice to have Daisy back!" 

Since the first time that I attended church in Bermuda, I have felt vulnerable to waves of grief- especially during the beautiful hymns- sung by powerful, stirring voices. This was my mother's kind of music. 

Until this Sunday, the hymns had given me solace and sustained me. Today, however, they would trigger built-up sadness- feelings that were obviously lingering there, waiting to be poked.

I recall looking to my immediate left, and seeing a beautiful lady, who reminded me of my mother in an overwhelming, visceral way. She had her hair. She had her body frame. She even had a Vera Bradley purse. As the music resounded through the church, tears came to my eyes- as if out of the sky. 

Unable to stop them, I walked to the back of the church, and asked an usher if he might have a tissue. He said, "No", regrettably. Feeling the need to explain my disposition, I told him that I had recently lost my mother, and that the woman next to me looked just like her. 

He sighed in reply, "That's my mum." He then asked, "Would you like a hug?"


Nina and I are both grappling with days like this- as this first year of grief pummels each of us at different times, and in different ways. Having people around us who let us feel our grief is such a gift. Too often, people think that the months pass, and there is a linear healing process- but it is much more complicated, in fact.

This morning at church, I received individual prayers for my strength and my future, as well as many hugs. A friend told me, "Tears are not a sign of weakness. They are a sign that you have been strong for too long. Let them flow." 

And... guess who gave me a tissue, at last? My mama's twin. She had to go to the bottom of her purse to find it- just like Marlys!

After church, we shared coffee, sweets and conversation in the church basement - a touch of Minnesota in Bermuda. I saw friends that I had made already, and chatted with new acquaintances. Since May, one of my friends had given birth to a baby girl. Holding her was sheer delight. I do not think that I have held a baby in twenty years. 

I was fortunate to be offered a ride eastward by kind friends. My next destination would be The Rosewood Hotel- an exquisite and legendary property in the wealthiest part of Bermuda- Tucker's Town. It is in this area that some of the rich and famous lay their roots- including Stephen King, Ross Perot and Michael Bloomberg. 

The ride was beautiful. We skirted the rocky coastline and sea, and winded our way through golf courses that are visibly in need of some rain. Typically they are green and lush, but Bermuda is behind on rainfall this year. 

Upon arriving at Rosewood, I was greeted by Charles, the hotel's 'Ambassador'. I entered the hotel, perused the lobby, and caught sight of a striking dress in a very glamorous shop- sparkly pink sequins. That was a dress to feel fabulous in...

Soon, it became clear that the restaurant I sought- Sul Verde- was not in the main hotel, but rather in the Tucker's Point Golf Club. Charles got me a shuttle ride, at once. I have now found another favorite destination in Bermuda.

Sul Verde is a lovely Italian restaurant, overlooking a sweeping golf course and Castle Harbor. From the veranda, which has exceptionally high ceilings, one can view the clouds, as they drift by and change formation. In Bermuda, this happens often. To my right, I could listen to golfers on the driving range.

When I eat out in Bermuda, I always look at the menu in advance. I also look closely at the ambience. You might say that I seek the 'holistic' experience. Many times, the setting rivals the food.

At Sul Verde, I enjoyed a beautiful panini and chardonnay with impeccable service- while being immersed in a visual space that will beckon me back. Immersion therapy of the very best kind! 


I often think that certain ventures in Bermuda (i.e. tea at the Perfumery) are more beneficial to me than spa treatments. This meal was one of them. It provided me with such serenity.

Tired from my day, I chose to eat in the hotel that night. As I made my way up the trail, I greeted one of the resident cats who sleeps all day in the grass, in the very same spot. 

There are also chickens who roam the property. The roosters have been hired to wake you, but regrettably, they do not bring you coffee!

As I entered the Great House, I met an entrepreneur from Bermuda who makes cookie sprinkles that mimic the island's pink sand. She had a table set up to sell her cookies and edible decorations. Naturally, I bought some to take home for afternoon tea with the Nina and Daisy. 

I admire every single person who lives their creativity aloud, having faith and working hard to bring dreams to fruition.

The next day, the weather was gray and unpredictable. We were one day out from whatever wind and rain Hurricane Florence would leave, as she passed by.

I took a walk down to the onsite cave on the property, in which one can swim. As a non-cave dweller (who is kidding whom, here?) the little voice in my head redirected me to the pool. I enjoyed lunch at the beach bar, with lots of folks and a rogue chicken who wandered around the terrace.

The weather cleared, and it was off to Clearwater Beach on St. David's Island. I had never been there. Despite the lingering clouds, the sun was blazing hot. I bought a cold Swizzle, took a stroll in the gentle warm surf, and took note of stones in the sand that resembled bones- actual vertebrae.

Overlooking St. David's Lighthouse, this beach is rugged and lovely in its own right- yet very different from the South Shore. There were only four other people on the beach.

Too hot, I decided to head to town (St. George). The bartender at the beach bar called me a taxi. I have an inkling that the taxi driver was his "mum". A sweet older lady in a car (without a meter) showed up. This is the first time that I had ever encountered a 'gypsy cab' in Bermuda. I did not mind in this case, as I was likely contributing to her retirement income.

While in St. George, I popped into The Island Shop to select a gift for a friend, and quickly retreated to the bus stop. I found myself  fantasizing about air conditioning, as if I were in the middle of a desert seeking water.

As I waited for the bus (which took a long while), I had an epiphany: ear lobes sweat! How different it is, to be in a climate where humidity exceeds eighty percent (80%)! Surely the climate is good for the skin, if one protects herself from the sun.

The bus arrived after a long wait. Quite honestly, I hope that Bermuda will pour a bit of cash into their public bus system. To my eyes, it appears to be lacking- with regard to the quantity of buses available, their state of appearance, and their punctuality. It is an affordable ride, yet not necessarily a pleasant one. Locals have shared that many of the buses are off the road- perhaps for service?

Due to the extended wait, my bus was utterly full at the first stop. Packed in like a sardine (NYC-style), I asked for someone to please alert me to my stop. I was pleased that I did not have to travel far.

Back at my hotel, I made my evening plan. Since it was my last night on the East End, I decided to visit a culinary institution- one of Bermuda's best- Tom Moore's Tavern.
It was a fruitful decision.

Arriving at Tom Moore's Tavern, I was escorted out of my taxi by the host with the most- Bruno, who happens to be the proud owner. of the establishment. Seated in this old Bermuda home, that dates back more than two hundred years, I caught myself transfixed. 


Bruno explained to me who Tom Moore was- an Irish Poet who came to Bermuda, but had to flee after having an affair with the Governor's wife. She, who was only seventeen at the time, later became a nun- so the story goes!

My dinner here was likely the best that I have had in Bermuda- Saffron Risotto with zucchini- a special of the day. I was coaxed into a Chocolate Souffle with Creme Anglaise afterwards; it was decadent. My mom would have savored it, and finished every spoonful.

Back at Grotto Bay, I made my way down the trail from the Great House to my room, listening to the magnificent tree frogs. They seem to come out earlier here, and linger later in the mornings- unless this is just my imagination!

Thankful to Grotto Bay for having me here, at their wonderfully warm and colorful resort, I tucked in early.

Everyday in Bermuda brings me fond new memories, and new acquaintances that last. 

As our pastor discussed in church, we must all have "faith in the unseen." It is not difficult here- not at all.