The (non) Surfer's Prayer

Dear Ocean,

Thank you for always being there, no matter what. I know that (almost) every day of my life you are offering me some sort of waves, waiting patiently for me to choose you. I love just looking at you even if I can't go in, watching your moods, your colors and light. Like on a day when I wake up at sunrise because I must get on a plane, and you are bathed in pink, and I see nice little lines and several boards bobbing in the water, and I know without even checking that there is some north in the wind and the waves would be fun to ride, and at the same time I know that if I squeeze in even one hour in the water there is a chance that I will miss my plane, and besides it won't be just one hour, it's getting in and out of the suit and taking a shower afterwards, so I can't chance it, but oh how I would like to, I look at the boards in the water and I'm already feeling what it would be like. It's good to know that I could have gone in today, even if I don't. It's good to know that when and if my life settles down to the point that I can grab a couple of hours of water time, you will welcome me back. I know it's been almost a month already, and I don't know where that month went, it flew by as it if were a moment; but I also know that you are not in a hurry, you are not going anywhere. Even when I can't see you out my window because I'm far away, I know you're still there. That knowledge sustains me. Wait for me. I will be with you as soon as I can.

Love,

Grandma