Journal of a Living Lady #398

Nancy White Kelly

As you read this, Buddy and I are preparing to go to Panama City for a few days. The beach beacons us and we are vicariously waving back.

Tori’s parents have graciously invited us to spend time with them during their condo week. They assure us there is plenty of room for the extended family. Two of their grandkids are also our grandkids so it is a win-win for us all.

There is always much to do before vacationing. In our case, we must secure the coin shop and remove valuables to an off-site location. Officers from the Sheriff’s department will be routinely checking the property. Our wonderful neighbors will watch our home. Arrangements must still be made for the care of our pets, mail and newspapers.

Another task is finding summer clothes suitable for the stifling Florida heat. I open the closet with trepidation, hoping that it hasn’t been besieged by calories.
Yes, calories: those little monsters that get into your wardrobe at night and sew your clothes tighter. Several times during adulthood, my closet has been infested with those conniving, clothing critters.

Today I am fortunate. My bathing suit not only fits, but is a bit baggy. Score two hits for the Living Lady, one for the Big C known as cancer and the other for those menacing, little closet c’s.

When I was in the worst phase of cancer treatment, just before entering hospice, I had this unexplainable, yet persistent draw to the ocean. My Buddy cheerfully made the journey with me three times.

What is it about the ocean that calms the soul? For me, it is the rhythmic waves thumping the sandy shore. It is a sense of vast colossal wetness. It is a mysterious, unfathomable global entity filled with secrets of kings and merchants.

I hear those mighty waves calling my name. Sayonara, my world-wide, reader friends. Au revoir. وداعا,. Wiedersehenl. Adios.

nancyk@windstream.net