Leafy...just now seeing this. What a horrible day...you must have felt like you were in the worlds worst April Fool. Prayers for your hubby and you and your Rain.
There are challenges in life where day to day turns to one breath at a time. All we can do is walk slowly, one foot in front of the other. I thank you for your prayers Lil. Likewise, my prayers go out to you, Jabber and your son.
If only the young could understand how quickly life goes by, and how precious each day is.
Thankful you can be with hubs, and believing for the best care and recovery.
Mahalo nui Kalahou, for your good wishes and the healing chant.
Sharing healing mana … HA ... Bless, Kalahou
‘O kau ola e ke akua
E nana mai kau mau pulapula
E ola a kaniko’o, a haumaka’iole
A pala lauhala, a kau i ka puaaneane
A laila, lawe aku ‘oe ia’u i ke alo o Wakea
most people can't imagine that pain and suffering could exist in paradise. I wish that were true right this minute for you dear Leafy.
Thank you Pasa. Indeed, there are trials and challenges that test us, no matter who we are and where we live.
My husband and I have known each other for 43 years.
Two very different people from very different backgrounds.
As I sit here in the still of the morning, I am reflecting on our life together,
the joy, sorrow, struggles and triumphs.
I am thankful for the blessings we have shared,
and even the difficult times we have overcome,
both have honed us.
We were brought together by our mutual love for the sea.
The ocean is like life, unpredictable, refreshing, tumultuous, breathtaking,
full of strong currents that test the most experienced.
Surfing is a passion we both shared. Years back, we would load our boards in the early hours of the morning and arrive at the beach before daybreak, darkness and chill of dawn would greet us. Some days, the surf would be a lot bigger than others, the water whipped up in swirling currents, whitewater dancing across the shore, lines of waves stretched out as far as the eye could see.
There was a feeling of hesitation before paddling out,
I knew the conditions were going to be a challenge.
That is what this feels like.........
"Follow me." He would say in his gruff voice.
If he thought I couldn't handle it, he would not take me out.
So I would go.
Run into the cold salty sea,
lift my heavy board above the oncoming breakers,
slide my body up onto the waxed deck
and paddle as hard as I could to get through the shallow current filled waters,
out towards the deep blue where the waves were cresting.
The shock and chill would dissipate
as I worked my way out through the pounding surf,
my heart pounding with it.
Hubs would be paddling swiftly ahead of me,
I fiercely tryed to keep up, measuring each breath in anticipation,
as I made it over and through the whitewater, confidence built a
bit more.
The bigger the surf, the further out one has to paddle,
positioning is critical to catching the best wave.
My eyes would be fixed towards the horizon,
searching through the patterns and outer breaks,
trying to guess when and where the next big set would appear.
Hubs knew the ocean well. He was much more skilled than I.
I would see him far ahead of me, in the blue sky
orange tinted sunrise,
dark silhouette sitting atop his board,
waiting.
Finally reaching him, I would heave up on my board,
then swing round to view the beach from whence we came.
Body warmed by the exertion,
wisps of wind on my frontside,
gazing at the shoreline,
everything reduced in size by the distance paddled.
The only way in, is to either catch a wave, or let the wave catch you.
"Eh, wake up, keep your eyes on the sets,
no turn your back on the ocean."
He would scold.
Then smile.
Splash water towards me.
The sea moved and churned all around,
small whirlpools boiled up over the reef,
telltale signs of a big set coming.
The water would start sucking out,
large lines approaching closer and closer to where we sat.
Deep breaths.
Hubs would expect me to swallow my fear.
When faced with an oncoming set there are two choices,
tail between the legs, paddle further out,
up and over,
up and over,
up and over,
maybe five to seven large waves.
That was not an option.
To him, this was cowardice, a waste,
unacceptable.
The rule was "If you going be one surfer, no hesitate, catch the wave and ride it."
Sitting way out there,
oncoming sets,
heart in my throat.
I knew that I had to suck it up
and catch the wave.
Ride it.
That is how this feels.
Suck it up.
Catch the wave.
Whatever happens, happens.
No turning back.
The unpredictable ocean of life.
I am praying that we will again, pull through this, together.
He is very ill, and very tired.
His test results are a bit better, so it seems the medicines are working.
I am in an altered state,
just going moment by moment.
Hoping.
Gazing out to the horizon
with somewhat fearful anticipation.
The swell, fast approaching,
Hubs will expect me to inhale,
grit my teeth,
turn my board around,
paddle with all my might,
pull myself to my feet
and ride the wave.
leafy
