The Shadow

Yesterday was one of those days that I would like to not have. I went to bed on Sunday evening watching news about Hurricane Odile on a collision path with Cabo San Lucas.  Now I have only been there one time, but the place was amazing. I thought about the open air restaurants, the simple houses where the residents live, the beggar lady Maria I met at the marina, the marina with all the boats, the horses at the ranch where I rode through the desert, the economy that depends almost totally on tourism.

So I awoke yesterday in the wee hours to see Cabo decimated by a Cat 3 hurricane.  I saw the beautiful airport in shambles, the barrios destroyed, the fancy resorts blown out and the marina trashed.  I heard some people being interviewed saying that everything will be cleaned up in two weeks. How is that possible when it is likely that power won't be back on for at least that long? Anyway,  seeing the damage in photos was bad but living through a Cat 3 gives a whole other definition to hell.

After looking as long as I could at the damage in Cabo, I checked email to learn that a long-time friend died in her sleep early Monday morning. She had just been at an event on Saturday with one of her beloved dogs.  Her last post to everyone on Sunday night was about how happy she was that her dog did well. I'm glad that she had a good two days and died happy.  She was a quiet, unassuming person who loved animals and her family.  She also suffered from rheumatoid arthritis which took her away from riding and competing with her dogs. But she still managed to get around with a cane.

I am not stunned anymore by people dying.  I am sad but realize that more and more of my friends are going to die as time passes.  Over the past year, death has simply been a factor in my life.  It is there like a shadow sometimes, especially on days like yesterday.

I prefer to not have the shadow near me and opt for bright sparkling water, ocean breezes and light days.  I keep the shadow away by traveling to the edge of the marsh.  The grass is going to seed, swaying in the breeze, changing color with the season.  It's an unsettled time of year with thunderstorms threatening in the distance, large cumulonimbus clouds building, and the light changing and moving like the leaves up in the trees.  At these moments, I am so glad to be alive, fully and with such a feeling of love deep inside my soul.

That's what I am feeling at this moment.  Love and peace to you all.

Trudging

This has been a trying week in many ways. It started with my MIL being taken to the ER. She weighs about 90 pounds and became dehydrated because she doesn't want to eat or drink. So we spent many hours waiting for her to get processed and into a room. My FIL is also not doing well. This weighs heavily on my wife.

Radar school was postponed until February because there were not enough students to take the class. It's just as well because in view of the horrible events of yesterday, I don't think that I would be able to concentrate. I was saddened by the killings but realized that such occurrences seem to not be surprising which troubles me.

I tossed and turned last night thinking about loss of life, loss of hope and the pain we inflict in a seemingly nonstop way on each other. This morning I met a friend for breakfast, went to the boat, and decided that going to an oyster roast in the afternoon was the best cure for my sad blah feeling. I sat and talked to a couple of old drunks who were knocking back fireball shots. We ate oysters and talked about the benefits of seafood, being married, and having a good dog and a great boat. We did not mention what happened in Connecticut.

I felt better after eating a couple of full buckets of oysters. I am even looking forward to having recovery friends over for a Boxing Day open house. Maybe in the face of tragedy, it's better to put one foot in front of the other and keep trudging. Just keep doing the ordinary, seek out friends, eat some happy food, and don't dwell too much in your head. At least, that's what I'm telling myself.