The Beach

Jed sailed the South Seas before I knew him.  He watched the whales rise by his ship, drank the juice of barnacles stuck to his ship, and kept watch through the night as his ship sailed through and to islands with exotic names.  He tells stories of drinking local libation from the shell of a coconut and falling completely in love with the deep, deep blue of the sea.  That was before he fell off the ladder.  It's been two years now.  Two years of spending most of his life either in bed or in therapy.  Two years of knowing the dreams aren't over.

Yesterday we went to the beach.  We ate chowder on the pier and went to the very end to watch the glorious sunset.  We talked about negative ions (that scientific explanation of why we feel so good at the beach).  We met an old couple from Oregon who were celebrating their 59th anniversary.  We lived life big. 
Jed stood at the very edge of the pier and looked out over forever.  He breathed in the sea air and remembered.  And planned. 

And when we got home, Jed said, "I want to walk in the house."  He's been doing some walking and we knew he could probably be successful, but we were tired.  Somehow we got the energy to say, "Okay, Jed, let's walk."  He did it.  All the way from the car, up the ramp, in the house and to the bed.  He was exhausted and has slept a good portion of today, but he did it, and he knows he did it, and knows he can do it again and again . 

Two years isn't such a long time.  It's time to rest and heal and make plans.  His plan is to walk.  And walk he did.  The sea air helped.  It brought back memories of living life free and open to possibilities.  His arms and legs are waking up.  It's very slow.    I spent 30 plus years being an elementary school teacher.  I spent many a day explaining to collegues that I was a process person not a product person.  Thank God.  The product is not yet perfect, but the process is amazing and life enriching.