Some people would say that was the universe sending me a lesson on impermanence, but I say I don’t need any more lessons on that subject. It was awesome while it lasted, though. Ask Scuba, I think I shoved it in his face twenty times going, LOOKITMYPICTURE! IT’S LIKE IT’S FROM A CALENDAR!
I took that photo almost two weeks ago while Scuba and I were on a short vacation in Pacific Grove. We sat in the sunshine by the pool, we swam in the ocean, we went out to dinner, we drank beer, we sat on our teeny balcony overlooking the cemetery, and we surfed. Scuba went for a dive while I stretched out on the beach reading Roger Ebert’s autobiography on the iPad that he got me for my birthday. (Scuba, not Roger. Roger totally forgot my birthday this year.) After we checked out of the hotel, we ended up at Point Lobos, which is where I took that photo.
This past weekend we had the kiddos, so we headed over the hill on Sunday (which was Lex’s FIFTEENTH birthday, which might as well have been his fiftieth, as weird as it feels to me) so that we could get some surfing time in before the afternoon Girl Scouts meeting and Lex’s birthday dinner.
Hey, look at me go:
I know, you’re all WOW WHAT A GINORMOUS WAVE! NOT! Just remember, the camera adds 27 pounds and takes four feet off waves.
And, check out my boyfriend:
He’s the stand-up guy in the photo (and in my life, too).
So, you know, things are pretty great around here.
But.
I have to, what? confess? I’m not sure what to call it, really. Basically, I am a mess. I miss my dad so, so badly. I get angry at days, at actual *days* because each one that passes makes him more in the past. Tonight I was driving home and there was this gorgeous candlelight-colored full harvest moon, and I pulled into my driveway crying because my dad wanted so much to be an astronaut when he was growing up. Grieving just fucking sucks.
Anyway, this is TMI, but my health is not good. I’ve not written too much about it before, because it’s gross and nobody wants to hear about it, but I have Ulcerative Colitis. I’ve had it since 1997, and have never really gone into remission without the help of medication. Now I’m at the point where none of the medicines work, and my doctor is pretty much only willing to talk to me about surgery. “Surgery” meaning removing my colon. Which, you know, I’m not super enthused about.
But, here’s the thing. Yes, I had a fantastic weekend with Scuba and then another one with him and the kids. We went to the beach and I got to go surfing and we hiked around Point Lobos and took photos and had such an excellent time. But, the places we went and how long we stayed and when we left and when we came home were all determined by how I was doing. We went to Capitola to surf instead of someplace with better waves because they have decent clean bathrooms right at the beach. Scuba and I went to Point Lobos instead of a beach off Highway 1 because Point Lobos is a state park, with restrooms. (But I’m glad we ended up there. It was stunning.) Some days I can’t get my kids to school on time. Some days I need to stay home and rest, because I’m so exhausted I can’t see straight. I have joint pain and I can’t just take off on a long hike or bike ride.
Maybe the surgery would be the best thing for me, but there’s a part of my brain that is all DO NOT DO THIS. And, being the stubborn person that I am, I’m listening to that. So, next week, I’ve got an appointment with a Naturopath and I’m hoping she can help me get back on track and stay off the operating table.
Because I want things to really be great around here, not just look that way.
i have a co-worker who had the surgery. the recovery time was really long and now she has other problems associated with not having a colon. hopefully the naturopath can provide some relief. call me if you ever need an ear…love you!
I don’t have anything useful to say except catch that wave, baby.
You hit right on the head, grieving fully does suck. There’s really no gracious way to put it. It lingers, crawls into your guts when you just want to breathe in and out without the hurt. And it never fully leaves. Hope and love to you.
PS: The waves look amazing, I can’t imagine the courage it takes to surf in all that water! And I’m sorry you’re facing such huge decisions.
I love that Polaroid! and, I really like the “envelope effects.” A neat weathered look. I am trying not to go buy one after our Polaroid workshop.
Hang in there. I hope things get easier for you. I love your comment about things being great, not just looking great. A good reminder that the surface appearance is just the beginning.