(I write today about a trip I took with my friend I’ve had since high school. In order to differentiate between “the best friend” and this one, I have decided to title her “friend for life”. Now, on with my story.)
I’ve learned many lessons in my sixty-two years of life, some well thought out, some that hit me smack in the face. Some I’ve remembered, some forgotten. One lesson I learned when I was twenty years of age.
I was young, vital, and thin with flowing red hair down to my waist. After living life as a somewhat shy girl, I suddenly found my voice and independence and sought adventure. (I was much too much full of myself and just ripe to be taken down.)
That’s why I found myself on the big island of Hawaii with my friend for life, staying at local friends of hers in Hilo. The large Hawaiian family took us in and treated us like treasured guests and family. They even introduced us to their extended family and that’s when I met a tall, gorgeous Hawaiian boy with the softest lips I’d ever felt.
One day we drove across the island to a wonderful beach where the boy was determined to teach the friend for life and me how to surf. I had never undertaken this before but was willing and able. Anything to get his arms around me was dandy.
In planning for this trip I purchased two swim suits; a green one piece and a bikini that resembled the swirling tropical sea. A few ruffles and straps completed this vision and it was my favorite of the two. I chose this suit to wear that day. In retrospect, not a wise choice.
Anyway, we were given a few lessons on what to do once out there and then off we went to find a wave. And find a wave I did, tossing me around like a pebble, flinging me off the board and spitting me up on shore with the board somewhere behind. I stood up, shook the sand off, located the board and attempted to rejoin my hero at sea. What I didn’t do was understand the physics of taking a surf board out past the surf by myself.
Facing the ocean I picked up the board and attempted to enter the surf with it in front and parallel to me. Any intelligent person can figure out what came next. The surf slammed against the board and the board slammed against me causing me to slam against the sand, flat on my back. I was so stunned I just lied there, out of breath and humiliated. The boy and my friend for life flew out of the ocean to help retrieve me from my predicament, causing more humiliation. But that wasn’t the end of fate knocking me off my self- imposed pedestal. Oh, no, not hardly.
I was once more out in the blue sea, again with the boy at my side. He carefully instructed me in the concept of only getting up on my knees this time. Sounded easier and more secure, so I was all for it. Toward shore I paddled, looking back for the wave.
By some miracle I located a small one, waited for it and paddled with all my might. And up I went, sailing in a crouched position on that board for all I was worth. Keep in mind the wave was small and close in to shore, but still, I was surfing. Up until that wave jogged to the right causing me to tip to the left and flail off into the turquoise water and head down to the bottom. I surfaced, sputtering and full of sand and swam in a little bit until I could get a footing. I was now in hip deep water and felt safe to stand up and spot my friend for life and the boy. They were very close in and we saw each other immediately.
And that was when I realized my bra top had been altered by the force of the fall and was now riding up around my throat. And my white, oh so pale breasts were in view for all to see. I could audibly hear myself falling off my pedestal and realizing I wasn’t the put together, sexy woman I had hoped but instead was a soggy, disheveled girl who was flashing the other surfers and my friends.
Thus ended my surfing career. I learned a lot that day about hubris, wave action and the power of the Hawaiian sun. For instance, if one has pale skin it doesn’t take but a minute for it to turn rosy red. Guess where.
magicalmess 