So, I came home from LA yesterday after sobbing my way through the security line. Even though I know my mom will be fine and the next family shift has arrived (my cousin and brother), it was hard saying goodbye. I received no comfort in the air, watching the eight fires below me, smolder and chew their way through the mountains of my youth. 
While I spent the week being there for my mom - helping her prepare her life and home for surgery and six-week recovery - I managed to squeeze in a few light moments. Now that I live in a landlocked state, I appreciate the Pacific Ocean more than ever. I brought along my ancient bikini just in case the opportunity should arise. It did. Much like I did so many years ago, I called up Diane (I think we met in first grade ... or was it second?) and had her "meet me at the beach." I drove the 20 minutes to Sunset Beach - snuggled tightly between Seal Beach and Bolsa Chica - and plopped my stuff on the sand. I ran right into the ocean and it felt like pure heaven, like coming home. I made friends with two teenage girls, Debbie and Sophie, and dived through the waves like a wanna-be mermaid.
Later, Diane arrived and I convinced her to come back into the water with me. We were chatting up a storm, treading water when we suddenly realized we were too far from shore and could not touch bottom. We began to swim back (forgetting that we should swim diagonally) and began to assess our dire situation. Diane yelled out: "I'm tired!"
"Me too!" I yelled back.
"Are you okay?" she yelled.
Pause.
"No!"
And so, I flagged down a nearby surfer named Robert who promptly rescued my ass. "Here just rest on my board and then I'll tow you in," he said with absolutely calm. He'd obviously done this before. "There's a strong rip tide going on today so be careful."
"Yeah, I'll do that," I sputtered.
We got back to our towels with hearts beating and our lives still flashing before our eyes. I tried to resume the conversation and be breezy about the whole episode but Diane was having none of it. "So ... (pant, pant) .. Diane .. (pant) ... How's the new job?"
"ARE YOU SHITTING ME?!? WE ALMOST DIED, HEATHER! DO YOU MIND??? I NEED TO CATCH MY BREATH!!!"
"Okay, yeah. You're right. That was scary."
And then we both started laughing and couldn't stop.
My re-acquaintance with the ocean had been adequately satisfied.
5 comments:
Oh honey!!
So glad your story ended safely. The same thing happened to my cousin in the exact same place. She was by herself (bad!!) and before she knew it she was far out. She swam for over 2 hours before being rescued (she was a competitive swimmer at the time which helped!)
Welcome back - and don't go getting lost in any mountains now that you're back :-)
Thanks, Kath! And yes, I realize the mountains can kick one's ass just as swiftly - especially mine.
In fact, it WOULD kill me to comment.
But for you, I'll take that risk!!!
PS - Glad you survived The Ocean. I would have hated to have had to kick its ass.
You v. the Pacific Ocean. That's a fight I'd like to see although the demise of the PO wouldn't be pretty. All those confused fish without water flopping around ....
For me, riptides are one of many reasons I don't dig the ocean.
Yet, I do remember watching you swim like a mermaid.
So glad you both are ok. Thank goodness for surfers!!!!
McSchmoinkle
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