I swam out in the ocean today in water that was like a thousand washing machines on full blast. The waves were trying to kill me I think. I wasn't scared of the waves. I could still touch the bottom, this is Ventura, it's a fake beach. Nothing bad can happen in Ventura.
But it was a little cold and all the battling the waves to get past them to get to the smoother part, the part right over there, right over that wave
I was getting a little bit winded. I never get winded. I thought wait I can't get a full breath. Am I dying am I having a heart attack do I have Covid wait wait
I was in the middle of churning water. That's all
I looked at the sky. I remembered my friend Rebecca was right back there in the shallower part where it wasn't so noisy and turbulent. She was singing, she told me later
Don't have a panic attack you idiot I thought
It's just water. So you're almost 55. The ocean hasn't swallowed you yet.
I got home to my mom, second time we left her with a neighbor friend babysitter. Our friend had cleaned our whole house. My mom was resting in pink, all fresh from a bath, and she was so relaxed. She had a very good day.
I had a day like I used to have, with the kids all packed in the car, terrible fun food, 7 dairy queen cups spilled 7 varieties of melted ice cream into my car door as I handed them out to Nathan to throw them away. The greatest, funniest, we laughed so hard, so messy and the worst place to spill. We get to smell old hot milk all the rest of the summer.
Kid full sandy car spilled food regular summer.
When I was putting my mom to bed I was seeing how slow she is, not bad slow, just where she is slow. Just breathing and disappearing, in her way, whatever way this is. And I thought about losing my breath in that water and that the ocean is always right
when we're done we're done. She has her time, I have my time, and the ocean will take us back, she assures
reminding the people who are listening
In the car ride back from the beach I told Rebecca how my mom was a nurse in a dementia ward and saw a lot of dying. She was a cheerful, energetic light there. She told the families don't stand by the side of the bed. Climb in with your people. Don't be afraid. They're your people. Climb in
I didn't know it, but she was telling me how I would end up taking care of her. I told Rebecca, My brother saw her there too, visited her at work too while she was helping people, I told her.
Yeah but you were listening, she said.
