While walking the beach this morning, I enjoyed watching children riding waves.  Their squeals of delight brought a smile to my face.  Every once in a while, a larger-than-normal wave caught them by surprise and tossed them into the surf.  They repeatedly resurfaced with giggles and laughter until, that is, one of the smaller children came out wailing to his mama about the injustice of it all.

I chuckled to myself, recognizing how this pretty much summed up my summer thus far.  During these last three months, I have felt caught up and tossed about by a series of waves.

From emergency eye surgery, to end-of-life issues with elderly parents, and finally, an uninvited visit from Covid, it’s been quite a summer indeed.  Back-to-back events like these can cause me to feel tossed around in the surf, struggling to gain equilibrium and hoping to land on my two feet.  I’ve long felt I was prepared for turmoil, but clearly, I need more practice.  So it seems I’ve been given the opportunity.  Thank you…??

The loss of eyesight in one eye due to acute glaucoma was the first larger-than-normal wave that rocked my boat.  I felt on uneven footing the entire month of recovery after emergency surgery.  Would I regain my eyesight?  Would it come back only partially?  I found it difficult to locate the peace within myself at that time…

Three weeks into this ordeal, my elderly mother-in-law fell and broke a leg, necessitating her placement in a rehab facility following her surgery.  It was the beginning of a very difficult time for her and my father-in-law.  We fielded many phone calls of desperation, followed by rushed hour and twenty-minute drives to be with them.  We are still working on getting them settled. Wanting to be as supportive as possible and not always knowing exactly what that looks like, again, makes me feel off kilter.  Where oh where is that sense of calm that has always been my refuge?!?

Then, this past weekend, my husband tested positive for Covid. Oh my Gosh!  Will he be okay?? So many plans got upended.  Isolation prevents us from visiting our elderly parents, our children and grandchildren.  Then, of course, there’s the challenge of physical distancing when you live in a 325 square foot cottage.  Just one more large wave, and I might need a lifeguard to save me from drowning! 

As I thrash about looking for solid footing, I’m realizing that, like the waves in the ocean, life ebbs and flows, ebbs and flows.  I can’t always be on the crest of the wave.  Sometimes I crash in the surf.  I’m realizing that it’s ok, it’s all part of life. The question is:  Do I resurface with as close to giggles and laughter as I can muster…or do I wail about the injustice of it all??

~Zanne
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