It is important to me that I not busy myself with dim distractions and minor worries as to pull my focus from my current state and God-Willing future.
This includes but is not limited to brave victims who urged a Pennsylvania jury to find Jerry Sandusky guilty of heinous sexual abuse charges, Obama's vote share mildly declining as we the people walk a thin line in a tight race all the way until November, or the fowl guests invited to a Gay Pride Reception at the White House flipping the bird to a photograph of President Ronald Reagan while audibly saying F*Ck You.
But I digress.
The sun rises behind me and the Intracoastal's glass surface changes from an ice blue to amber, Low-country's brilliant grass blows in the sea breeze, dancing to a familiar Southern song. I've heard it before and swayed to the sound but can't remember if it resonated in my heart. I want it to.
Bronzed bodies roll by on rusty beach cruisers toting their heavy pride and joy. Their nine or ten year old arms loaded with waxed up surf boards and scuffed fins.
Toe-heads. From their genes and determined days spent in salt drenched water.
They're sweet and scary in the same breath.
Two years ago, I told a friend of mine that in twenty, I would be diligently pounding out another novel on my wraparound porch, dappled with shade by the grand live oaks. I'd look up to see my 18 year old daughter climbing the wide wooden front stairs barefoot, with a surf board under one arm and a smile spread across her tan face.
Is this trip the preconception of a vision in the making?
Maybe it's the scent of Oleander that's making me dizzy with thoughts of a simple life and beach cottage. They say its poison after all.
But so is the tireless rat race of the Empire City.
The driving force of hedonistic experience and fame seeking suffering is a lethal dose I continue to take. And to what end?
I grabbed my husband's hand somewhere between dark and dawn and whispered, "Let's take another leap together."
He rolled over and stayed the course of sleep.
But I think he heard me. And I think he smiled in agreement.
I tearfully agree, too.
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