It is the hottest and most humid day of my vacation. It is time to head for the beach. I was there yesterday to check it out. The beach is lovely. I tell myself to be in the moment. Feel the breeze on my skin, the hot scratchy feeling of sun burn...the sound of the waves and sea gulls.....I feel the sand under my feet. There is some power to those waves, so I haven't gotten under the water yet. Instead, I am standing in it. I feel the push of the water...back and forth. The power of the moving water moves the sand under my feet. My heels sink. There aren't many people on this beautiful beach because it is after Labor Day. I am decompressing.
At home at the house I have rented, I check my email. Aunt June has been moved to a nursing home. Judy is frantic. Hospital staff have found that Aunt June's lungs are full of cancer.....probably from second hand smoke. Uncle Howard was a chain smoker, as were many people of that generation. Judy is preparing to have Hospice care for her mother. She signs a "do not resuscitate" order. I can expect a phone call any day that I have lost my last remaining aunt.