I have spent the last month adjusting to a change in my health and some of its consequences. It is not terribly difficult, but it requires more thought and attention to detail than I am accustomed to because I haven’t thought about or paid attention to my health for the last, okay, since forever.
Lynnette can be a pain in the ass sometimes with the nagging and the urging and the passive-aggressive mentioning that’s really suggesting but c’mon, it’s really a statement of preference, figure it out, Phil. In this, however, she has been such a pillar of support. I am lazy. When I am not lazy, I can be stubborn. I can apply my cleverness to the slippery of logic of justification in attempts to weasel my way out of things and into my comfort zone. But Lynnette has never let me just float around in my comfort zone.
Today at the beach, she rocked Avery into a nap. I needed a rest so I plopped down next to Gravy and closed my eyes for a little while. When I got up, Lynnette was still standing on the reef fishing. I walked over to where she and my dad were set up and had my camera ready for what I hoped was an eventual, inevitable strike. It took a while. So I watched her from behind. She leaned forward slightly to hold the line in the water. She jerked the pole skyward when she felt a nibble. I could see a little frustration. She had only caught one, another came off the hook as she brought it out of the water. As I watched her, I got hit with one of those “how did I end up here?” trains of thought. I looked at my father, patiently baiting the hook for my wife. I turned to see my mother leaning over my son, holding his face in her hands, whispering something meant only for him. My older daughter shouted as she dove into a shallow pool in hopes of scooping some fish. My youngest child lay still in the shade of a small tent.
Moments like these feel like time travel. I recall the events required to get here. I wish here could last forever. I imagine the events between here and the all the way down there. And all my thoughts – the then, now, forever – are only possible because of Lynnette. Thank you for all that you do for me, Love. I love you.