A 30 minute escape to a cottage rental on the beach was presented to me. Without my typical overthinking way, I responded with a definite “yes”! Yes to change, yes to fresh, and yes to breaking the routine of a stressful, lonely August. I was hopeful.
The beach is familiar fun for me. As a child, it was a family adventure that included an hour or two drive in the station wagon to enjoy a small yet popular beach.Mom always packed a cooler full of food and sandwiches. Chips were included as a reward for good behaviour.
For my husband, the beach drums up demons of body issues. Shame and self consciousness have overruled any form of beach fun.
I was in shock about his plan! Deep down, I prepared myself for loads of loner time in the sun and water.
The first couple of days, I was right. He was leaving me at the cottage while he prepped for his work term in September. I kept a brave face on. He was doing a great job of blending work, bike rides and beach walking.
One night, he suggested a beach swim. Woah!!!! Again, I responded with enthusiasm. I covered up my shock. As we headed to the beach, we were faced with a cool, strong wind bringing ferocious waves. We plunked our stuff and headed to brave the waves. The water splashed our warm torso’s with a jolt of reality. Cold! The force of the waves boxed us about. Maybe the weather was saying, “Go home to safety”. We prevailed and started to adjust to the temperature difference. We became braver with immersing ourselves. Suddenly, my husband seemed excited about an upcoming swelling wave. He jumped up and started swimming to ride the wave!!! Giggles, smiles and excitement bubbled for the upcoming waves.
As we played in the waves, we were free of life’s shackles.
