You can't always get what you want...

As spring break comes to a close, I reflect. I wished for surf like in this photograph, but never saw it arrive. There was a lack of surf, but I got more done than I would have. It took almost every minute to prepare for Jenny, Joe, and Sarah's arrival.

Tomorrow there will be much more open space in this apartment, as most of the furniture will be leaving for North Carolina. My apartment will resemble a Mennonite's. Aren't they the ones who live so spartan-like? I will have a desk and a chair where I can begin the program of study I signed up for this week, one chair to sit at the kitchen counter, bookshelves with books (essential), and a bed. Oh, yes, and my old art table where the computer lives.

I have no idea where on earth I will be come the end of July. It is at once unsettling and exciting. But mostly, it is scary.

So, yesterday I took Sarah for the surf lesson she was so nervous and excited about. I gave her the lecture, the one about the lesson I learned at Hermosa when that big wave loomed up on me and I thought for sure I was going to die. Fear is the enemy, I told her. Too bad I can't follow my own advice. Go with the wave, don't resist. Breathe and relax. You will always come back up.

Sarah did great. With every wave, she got better at balancing herself on the board, at realizing that it was really fun. At the end, my old pal, Joe, came rushing out into the surf to greet us. Chris had seen me out there and told him. I introduced him to my niece, and he said, "Does she know she is being taught by the best?" So sweet.

We caught up on stuff, and then he told me something disturbing. "Do you remember John McCoy?" I knew it wasn't good by the tone of his voice.

He said he died yesterday.

John had complained that he was having trouble breathing, and had told his mom who he lived with, and he laid down on his bed. Next thing she knew he was dead. He was only 39. He was a big guy, overweight, and it made me think it must have been a heart attack. They won't know for a few days. I remember John was such a sweet guy, funny, he always made me laugh. I hadn't seen him for years, but Joe said he hadn't changed. Joe looked down then and said, "You know Nance, I was thinking about it, and I can't remember Big John ever saying anything mean or nasty about anything or anyone." And now he is gone. I can see him, coming in the surf shop, standing at the counter, smiling, looking down. It kind of makes whining about the lack of surf embarrassing. We are here, and we are alive.