“My mission in life is not merely to survive,
but to thrive; and to do so with
some
passion, some compassion, some humor, and some style.”
Maya Angelou
The temperature is perfect on this summer day
as I float in the center of the pool. With
a delicious beverage delivered (courtesy of my cabana boy), I enjoy a momentary
feeling of utter bliss. Ken tests the
water with those colorful strips; purple indicates the pH is off resulting in a
visit to the pool store. I remain
captive on my raft with drink in hand.
He returns to carefully measure & pour the chemicals into the water.
I watch, taking note of all that he must do to keep things perfect for my
floating. There is a comfortable quiet
between us as I continue gazing in Ken’s direction. This time noticing the red patches of poison
ivy on his arms, the result of pulling weeds maintaining our beautiful
flowerbeds.
It’s a lot for me to take in and I recognize
immediately - all his responsibilities to keep me afloat. It is painful
viewing my inability to “carry my load”
around here. I can do very little to unburden
him of the many tasks he performs for my comfort & happiness. All I can do is receive the gift of floating - trying to regain that sense
of bliss.
And so, time passes as I recline on my raft in
the middle of the pool. Eyes fixed on Ken
who has not stopped working. The last
thing I want is to have another need... but alas, that refreshing drink made
especially for my pleasure has gotten warm. Finding the courage I lift my glass
(OK, maybe momentarily shaking it) and ask, “could I bother you for some ice?” Ken’s response is priceless, worthy of this
story.
Exhausted, dirty, itchy from poison ivy he smiles,
grabs my glass & begins moving toward the house. Stopping, he turns and in the sincerest way
asks, “What’s it like to just show up?” He means no insult or
harm. His words spoken to acknowledge
the truth that is often silent between us.
In our usual way – we laugh. His laughter coming from a place deep within
that would do anything to please me. And
my laughter spills out from an awareness of my dependence on him. Together we find humor in what could easily
destroy us. All that we are and all that
we have is a combination of our efforts to strive, to thrive and to live a
blessed life ~ always with a little ice in my glass.
