04 Jan The Gift of the Ocean
Ella and I were past the surf, floating on the calm part of the ocean as it gently lifted and lowered our brightly colored tubes. A family of four was splashing nearby on a large inner tube designed to look like a donut with sprinkles.
The youngest child began to cry because salt water was in his eyes. The older child wanted to go back to shore and build a sandcastle – and, he added, he was hot and hungry and wondered if anyone had noticed they were drifting farther and farther from their umbrellas and chairs on the shore. Clearly frustrated and not having a great time, he took his snorkel and sprayed water at his younger brother. The parents looked tired. And sunburned. The little boy began crying again.
The mom looked toward me and smiled gently. It was a smile I’ve seen – and given – on playgrounds and in grocery stores when kids are having a hard time and you are doing your very best to manage a difficult situation. This mom was having an extra hard time as her boys fought in the middle of the ocean on a drifting raft.
It was then that we heard the little boy exclaim, “Look! A turtle!” He pointed down toward a moving dark spot in the water. The older brother leaned toward the water and saw it, too, commenting how close it was and high-fiving his brother for spotting it. Their dad attempted to untie the tangled strap of a waterproof camera he had around his neck to take a picture. In the process, he fell into the water. He popped up a moment later, laughing and holding the camera toward the sky, shouting that he was pretty sure he got the perfect picture of the turtle.
The family huddled together on the raft to watch the turtle glide past, entertaining them with an underwater dance. The burning eyes and sandcastle wishes and sunburns and hunger were forgotten and replaced with delight in this moment they were sharing together. Far from where they began.
I looked toward the shore and noticed that the little boy was right. Our tubes had drifted from where we started. The red umbrella we had left our towels and shoes under was now just a red dot, far to the right as I looked back toward the sand.
There is a natural tendency to drift, and usually we talk about it in the negative – drifting from goals and values or skills, or drifting back to unhealthy behaviors or patterns. For this family on the raft, though, looking up and being surprised by where they were was a gift from the ocean. It had gently carried them from a spot where they were stuck. There was magic in that sweet moment of support when things became shaky and the sea seemed to say with a smile, “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”