2010
Haven’t really posted recently
Not that I haven’t had much on my mind. I have. Not that I don’t have any time. I do. Just didn’t feel like writing. Certainly not about the present.
Here is a story about the past.
Every night I would drive to Jupiter Beach. It was nice to sit and look at the stars. I had to get away from Kristin and from the stuffy apartment. Around midnight I sat on the sand, listening to the wind, looking up at the stars. It was nice and I was learning how to enjoy being with myself. I rarely miss Florida, but I do miss those nights.
One night I sat on the railing of the boardwalk. I don’t remember why I sat up there, maybe it was the vantage point, or maybe it was high tide. In the distance I saw the shadow of a woman walking towards the water. She was in her late 40s to early 50s, wearing a nice dress. She walked toward the water with intent, a woman on a mission. She didn’t test the waters but simply walked into the waves without breaking her stride.
I kept watching as I reached to remove my shoes, then my shirt. When she was hip deep in water I start towards the steps down to the dunes. I couldn’t move my eyes from her for fear of loosing her position in the water. Just then, she turned and headed back to the beach. I felt a wave of relief come over me. I have no desire witness a suicide. Not tonight, not any night.
As she approached me I called out to her, “Hi, are you ok?” She smiled and joined me on the boardwalk. I noticed that she was carrying an urn. We chatted a bit. That night was the one year anniversary of her husband’s death and she went to spread his ashes in the ocean. The ashes were just a pile of carbon molecules. It doesn’t contain her husband and it doesn’t hold the memories of him. She will always have him but she was trapped inside the urn with the ashes.
She smiled and asked me why I was out there. I was there because the ocean has the power to free one’s soul. And that night it freed both of ours.
Today I thank: Jack, LB and Amy for being my best friends. And I also thank Terri for showing me Jupiter Beach.
2010
Strange Men in the Night
Terri during one of our many trips to Juno Beach
In August of 2007, I was in terrible health. My doctor recommended that I start physical rehab, but start slowly. I wasn’t sure what to do, so Joyce recommended that I practice yoga. I found a little studio in Palm Beach Gardens Florida. It was in an upstairs unit of a business park. It seemed dark and quiet, just what I needed. I walked in and spoke to the instructor, Jamar, who assured me that I’ll be able to go my own pace and flexibility is not a requirement.
I arrived early the next day and strategically placed my mat at the back of the class. The only other person in the studio was Terri. We started a conversation and discovered that we were both there to recover from surgery.
Over the next few months, Terri was my yoga-buddy. It’s good to have a yoga buddy, it insures that you show up instead of slacking off to watch TV. Terri also enjoyed walking on the beach, which was another good exercise for me. We spent a lot of time doing yoga, walking her dog ( Little Bob ) and making fun of Larry, a beach-goer who had a major crush on Terri.
Terri was going through a divorce, which at the time of this writing has yet to be concluded. She was still sharing the house with her husband which meant that she was happy to be out at any time. She would drive 1/2 out to go to dinner, movie, grocery shopping, beach, or even to come to my neighborhood to take Little Bob for a walk. We became very close friends. It’s good to have someone who you can talk to while going through a major life change.
I had been to Terri’s house a couple of times to help with hauling hay for her horses. For a city slicker like me, her place seemed to be in the middle of nowhere.
Late one night I received a phone call from Terri. She sounded very upset and I could barely understand what she was saying in midst of the crying. One of Terri’s other dogs had died (not Little Bob). She have had this dog for many years, and she found the dog dead in the living room. She wanted to know if I would go help her bury the dog in the yard.
I drove to Terri’s place to find that she had wrapped the dog in a blanket. We moved the dog outside next to the drive way on a patch of grass where one of Terri’s horses had been buried years ago. Terri’s husband Bill was not home and probably would not have helped her anyway.
So the two of us began the task of burying this dog. Terri held a flashlight and I dug the hole. About half way through the digging, Bill’s truck pulls up to the drive way. He sat in the truck 20 feet away and watched for a few seconds. Then he pulled up to the garage, got out of the truck and went inside.
When the hole was completed, we lowered the blanket in, had a moment of silence and I quickly filled the hole and left.
I had never met Bill, and he had never said a word to me. What must be going through his mind as he watched the two of us digging a hole in the yard in the dark?
Later on I found out from Terri that during part of the divorce proceedings, one of Bill’s grievances was that “strange men would show up in the middle of the night”.
I guess that aptly describes me: Strange Man.
Today I thank: Terri, Little Bob, Joe, Mom, Simcha
