Day 1093 Small Miracles

 

It was Isak Dinesen who once said, "The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears, or the sea." And I couldn't agree more. Spending the day at the beach with great friends doesn't hurt either!

Heather joined me for the day—even after I warned her I tend to spend a solid eight hours there. She didn’t flinch, packed her bags, and happily accompanied me. Alida and Ray also joined us, just back from their trip to D.C., full of stories and sweet treats from a party. It was, once again, a perfect day from start to finish.

There was only one shadow over the day—still no sign of Pep, and my watch was likely halfway to Block Island by now. But then, a small miracle: Alida stopped Jen, the beach club manager, as she walked by and asked if anyone had turned in a watch. I admit I thought she was crazy to ask, slim to no chance I'd ever see that darn watch again. 

To my amazement, Jen said, "Yes, there's a watch in the clubhouse," and immediately went to retrieve it. She returned to our spot with the watch on her wrist—my watch! It’s no worse for wear, and once charged, I’m back in business, proudly wearing my precious timepiece again.

Pep is still gone. My brain knows she’s likely not coming back, but there’s still a tiny part of me that hopes to see her waiting at the back door.

The Sunday afternoon and evening were even more relaxing, knowing I had Monday off. Rhode Island remains the only state that still observes VJ Day (Victory over Japan Day) to commemorate the end of WWII—though it’s now simply called Victory Day in an effort to be more politically sensitive. Still, I don’t quite understand why it’s considered wrong to commemorate a victory. If Japan had won the war, I have no doubt they'd celebrate "Victory over America Day" every day of the year.

War is horrific, no matter how you slice it. The world was forever changed by the atomic bomb, but we also can’t ignore how many American lives were likely saved because of it. 

There’s something grounding about the beach, friends, and unexpected small mercies. They remind me that life keeps moving, even through loss and uncertainty. Here's to more days like this one—and to always keeping hope alive, even when it feels foolish.