"You'll Find That Life is Still Worthwhile"

In life, you will experience heartache, pain, sadness, and loss. I wish I could prevent it from happening to you, and in fact, I will do all in my power to soften those blows. I would much rather take on your hurt than watch you face it. However, sometimes, there will be nothing I can do other than comfort and love you.

7 months ago, your daddy lost his Momma. I lost her, too. We all did. Not only was she my mother in-law, but she was my friend, and losing a friend, although nothing compared to the pain felt by her boys, was the worst pain I have experienced to this point in my 25 years of life. 

I find comfort and reality in the profound quote by George Bernard Shaw. "Life does not cease to be funny when people die anymore than it ceases to be serious when people laugh." 

The quote, while not necessarily pretty, is honest. Life is life: good, bad, happy, sad, painful, and funny.

I urge you to keep happy memories always filed away for the tough times. For me, the following story, no matter how sad I get, makes me laugh. It helps me to remember that life is meant to be spent with a smile. So please, feel free to have a laugh at my expense.

~ In July of 2005, Grammy, Uncle Brandon, Jack (who was 2 at the time), and I took a mini vacation to Grammy’s favorite get-away: Galveston Island. I cannot remember why we decided that just the four of us would go. My guess is that no one else could come with us due to other responsibilities. I do remember that it was somewhat of a spontaneous trip.

It was a beautiful day on the island, and the temperature, I remember, was abnormally cool for July in Texas: too cool for swimsuits and suntan oil, but just perfect for a drive on the beach just Grammy and me. We loved our girl time, and when we were together, we could talk and gossip and gab for hours. And that’s exactly what we were doing when the incident occurred.

So we two girls hopped in Grammy’s white Grand Prix and went for a ride. The radio was on; the windows were down, and Grammy and I were “chewing the fat”.

Now, what you need to know about this story is that Grammy and I exuded great confidence that morning. We felt wonderful. We looked fantastic (which was the norm for Grammy). And, we were living it up, just like a couple of southern gals on vacation should. Needless to say, we thought we were pretty cool, Grammy and I.

As the rays of sun beamed into the car’s open windows, we drove down the beach, arms stretched out, feeling the breeze on our skin and the wind in our hair. I can still taste the salt in the air and smell the ocean fragrance, a scent that I will forever link to her.

And then…it happened.

It all happened so quickly, we sat in shock for several seconds afterward before it could sink in. However, in my mind, I remember everything in slow motion. Grammy, in the midst of a sentence (the topic of which has long been forgotten), came to an abrupt stop. The car, the talking, everything seemed to freeze for those seconds.

I saw it first, shooting through the air at a near invisible speed. Then, I felt the hit – something cold and wet on the upper part of my bare arm. My eyes traveled down to my left arm. There it was, running down my arm to my elbow, a thick white glob of goo. I followed the spattered white trail up to the dash board – the contrast of white liquid on black plastic. And then, slowly, Grammy turned her head to face me. 

What was most noticeable was not the look of sheer horror stretched across her face. It was the goo. Thick goo as white as the rest dripped from her cheek and chin and painted her lips like a paste.  Grammy’s piercing screech filled the car and could probably be heard a mile away.

We had been pooped on by seagulls.

We laughed so hard I thought we would split! We were covered in it! Frantically, we wiped and scrubbed and cleaned every spot of it we could find, laughing and mortified all the while. Our egos that we had proudly been stroking only moments earlier were shattered. Shame and embarrassment coated our cheeks in deep crimson as Grammy made the U-turn to head back to our motel room. ~

That’s one of my favorite stories of Grammy and me, and no matter the sadness I feel at her absence, the story of our Beach Surprise never fails to bring with it a smile.