[Guest post by Dan, my husband]
When Kerri told me she was calling her blog “Amongst the Waves,” it immediately brought back memories of my youth in Laguna Beach, California. As a kid, I was a daily fixture at the beach all summer long, but never became as comfortable in the surf as many of my companions. I moved to Laguna from Kansas City as a five year old, and was just learning to swim while my buddies were already body surfing.
Big waves were rare at Emerald Bay, our local beach, and when they hit the news quickly spread. Everyone grabbed their boogie boards and fins and hit the water. I usually stayed on the beach and admired my buddies’ bravado.
Occasionally, I summoned the courage to follow along and more than once regretted it. The only options with big waves are to either “take off” and ride the wave, or dive under. Being too frightened to take off, I usually dove under the waves, hoping to encounter a smaller one on the other side. The problem is that big waves come in sets. So after diving under one, I was forced to furiously swim to reach the next wave before it broke.
If I didn’t get there in time, the wave basically broke on top of me. I remember once being forced by a breaking wave down into the sand on my knees. I was sure there was no way I could make it back up and out of the water. I thought about that feeling sometimes while watching Kerri go through her chemotherapy treatments. Every three weeks she was also brought to her knees by the toxic chemicals rushing through her body. It was amazing to watch her bounce back again and again with a positive outlook and an unrelenting attitude. Read More
See Me
I love you too coffee! Missing you...
Recently I was waiting for my usual 16 oz Tazo Refresh tea at the Nike coffee bar. I say “usual” but am really referring to the last few months. On the advice of the experts, I had willingly but very sadly given up my lattes and americanos as soon as I was diagnosed. Fortunately, I had somehow lost my intense need for the caffeine. And with compromised taste buds and stomach, the thought of a cup of joe didn’t even remotely appeal on many days. But, it was still difficult. It was the ritual that I missed. The rich smell, the hot cup in my hand, the walk to the coffee bar in the morning to start my day…
But, here I was a few months later, eagerly anticipating my tall-boy sized mint tea. I was unexpectedly awakened from my morning stupor by a surprising event. Maria, the morning barista from behind the counter was suddenly in front of me and stared at me intently. She gently latched onto my wrist, peered into my eyes, and said, “I have been watching you. I think I know why you are wearing that scarf. I want you to know that I know you will be okay and I am thinking about you.” Then she enveloped me in a soft hug, squeezed me tight and returned to making non-fat double cappuccinos for the hordes of Nike employees desperate for their daily fix. All this occurred while the crowd waiting for their orders stood and watched. Read More »