I surfed. Dog Beach. Malibu. I rode multiple (more than 2!) waves in one afternoon. Woo hoo!
Caveats: I did not pop up. I remained prostrate on a really big board while Jeremy (my good friend/personal trainer/physical therapist/surf master) pushed me into small waves. I rode those waves until I fell off the board.
That's surfing, right?
The day was gorgeous--clear, blue sky and beautiful ocean. The ocean water was a tad chilly, but I felt fine in my wetsuit and borrowed booty. (Thank you, Sarah.) Jeremy and I had the beach to ourselves on that particular Monday afternoon. I love being in the ocean; I adore surfing.
I chose to surf to acknowledge the 21st anniversary of the day I lost my leg.
April 16th, the day I lost my leg, remains significant. Perhaps the time will come when the anniversary is no longer a day I somehow dedicate to acknowledging the anniversary. Perhaps eventually I will not begin to recognize the upcoming anniversary at least a month in advance. The past several anniversaries were dedicated to grief (e.g., anger and sadness); by dedicating the most recent anniversary to a new activity, I made a statement about focusing on my abilities rather than my disability. Or so I believe.
Right now, I cannot imagine not prepping for the anniversary for at least one month. I cannot imagine not realizing sometime in early to mid March that the anniversary of an incredibly significant day is coming up. I don't even know if I want to stop acknowledging the day. I'm thrilled that this year I dedicated the day to a new activity in a medium I love (the ocean). I consider thinking about how I want to spend the day (San Francisco? surfing?) and reaching out to my support system to make the day amazing as a success in my battle against self-pity, timidity, stagnation, accident anger, and more.
Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, Jeremy, for surfing with me on my 21st anniversary. The day rocked. You rock.
I will surf again on the Fourth of July.
P.S. Hey, Jeremy, the cat sat on the--