Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Changing Direction...



This is where I live. My own backyard (well, actually my front yard since behind me is a road). It's a beautiful lake, rather small, but incredibly peaceful. It only takes about fifteen minutes to walk the mile around the lake and it's one of the most peaceful times of the day for me.

Yesterday, July 4th, I took this picture while walking back towards my house. The blankets on the bank of the lake are not Orange County's contribution to the AIDS quilt, as it might look, just the community reserving their spots for prime firework viewing.

Now, my camera doesn't do this picture the justice it deserves. The greens are much greener, the mountains more majestic, and on some of the smaller trees in front, there are the most beautiful purple flowers.

The funny thing about this picture is how I came to take it. I was at the Beach Club - a man made lagoon on the side of the lake I was standing on, about 30 yards down the path from my house. The lake water is nasty and not good for swimming, so my community has built a small lagoon with chlorinated water, sand and picnic areas for families to gather. There's just a narrow bridge separating the lagoon from the real lake water. Needless to say, it was packed for the 4th.

I went early to reserve a lounge chair on the sand, and at 8 AM I got the very last one. I was meeting my friends that night for a yacht ride around Newport Harbor to watch the fireworks (very hoity toity :), but spent the early part of the day by myself, so I only needed one chair. Since I live so close, I would just walk home whenever I needed something. Being the Coke addict that I am (the liquid kind), and fountain Coke snob, I walked at one point to the Carl's Jr. that sits in the shopping center around the other side of the lake. I'm a terrible creature of habit. I walk the same way around every day, same direction, same path, stopping at the same spots to look at the beauty of the lake. Coming back from Carl's Jr., however, it made more sense to backtrack to the Beach Club the way I came. And I'm so glad I did. How is it possible that after living on this lake for 8 months, and walking around it every day - morning or evening and sometimes both - I have never seen this beautiful perspective? I always walk around the other way and this scene ends up at my back, or I end up walking right underneath it, basically not seeing it from the same angle. I am certainly no philosopher, but how have I become so narrow minded, going through life with blinders on, and essentially blocking out that which is beyond my limited and "comfortable" perspective? It made me think about what something as small and simplistic as changing your direction can lead to. I'm not someone who embraces change, but rather rolls with it. I can't say I don't like change because I feel like I'm an adventurous person, who seeks out new and exciting life experiences. But that's not change. That's adventure. Change is like what's coming up for me shortly, when I have to dust off my resume and, for possibly the first time in my life, seek out a position that has not been offered to me. And let me tell ya...the biggest thing that came with this new pretty house on the lake is the mortgage, which I'm pretty sure is higher than the national debt. Being a single mom, the kind of change that will make me uncertain about meeting that mortgage is more than a little frightening. I'm having to face life changing decisions about certain relationships in my life. All I can do is pray that I'm making the right decisions because we never really know if we are until we see them play out, and for me that could be years. Staying complacent can be so comfortable, don't you think?

So while I was busy contemplating these changes in my life and my new found perspective, I came home to an e-mail yesterday telling me that one of my dearest friends, Lisa, has lost her oldest son. He was kayaking in Newport Harbor the night before and suffered some kind of a seizure. Because it was nighttime, Lisa's husband who was kayaking with him, couldn't find him in the dark and sadly he drowned, being found by the Coast Guard several hours later. Her son Richard was the father of twin little girls.
Well. Lisa never had the option of staying in her comfortable cocoon, did she? Her life is irreparably changed with a loss that I cannot even imagine, not to mention her son's wife and children. It will probably be years, if ever, that she wakes up in the morning and thinks a career decision means anything at all. Years before she walks around a lake path such as this and cares which direction she is headed. Years before her husband wakes up without being haunted by the memory of that night, and his futile effort to find his son in the dark. This woman who has meant so much to me, an unwavering support in my times of need, is now dealing with something that is too horrific to even gauge. No words can touch it, and yet as a mother, there's that selfish part of me that laid my head on my pillow last night and thanked God that it wasn't one of my own children. Sort of puts my decisions into some much needed perspective. A new job - just not that big. The relationships I'm talking about - definitely not life or death.

I don't know what to do for my friend Lisa - I don't know what to say. And in my floundering helplessness, all I can do is love her and pray for her and her family, that amongst the sleepless nights and unanswered questions they will inevitably face, that peace will eventually find them.

When he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night

~William Shakespeare

16 comments:

Jenni said...

Wow Steph.

I had a similar eye opening experience last year while walking around the lake by my house...I too went a different direction and saw things from a different perspective. It's amazing what you see when you just pay attention.

I am so sorry to hear about your friends loss. Hopefully she has as much faith as you do and will eventually make it through this a stronger (but definately changed) person. And with a friend like you, I'm sure she'll be just fine.

Barry said...

I know what you mean about changing direction - or even location.

I will probably say something really trite and stupid here, but I will try to say what I feel helps me when I lose friends or loved ones. I feel obligated to really live life, not just exist, as often I have felt I have been. When those of us still living that were connected to that person's life, can live it fully, to bring happiness to others, that seems to in an ever so slight way, to help with the loss.

by the way - I understand how pics don't do justice to life scenes, but that pic is a beautiful sight!

Steph said...

Jenni ~ You're my friend, and I'm so glad. You get me and you get my faith, and I'm so thankful for that. Thank you for your kind words. I can't wait to see you in September.

Barry ~ I know you get it too. What you said is not trite, but what I know to be true, and what I hope to model with my own life. Thank you for your comment, especially when you're in a position right now that truly sees how precarious life can be.
God bless you.

ThursdayNext said...

I love that Shakespeare quote from R&J. I think Shakespeare understood the depth of tragedy, but also understood the importance of living life to its fullest. I am sorry for your friend's loss, but I know that you will be a great comfort to her during this time. You know, I never do any kind of water activities anymore unless its fishing on a boat. A good friend of mine died when I was in high school in a water skiing accident; I am still too shaken up.

Slim said...

Steph, that was a powerful post.

I have a problem with the inertia required to make a change. The change in and of itself isn't that bad, it's the steps leading to the change that I have difficulty making. For instance: sending out my resume and interviewing are far harder than starting a new position.

Don't beat yourself up for worrying about your own situation. Your friend's loss is a tragedy (which brought me to tears, btw). But we do most justice to those that have passed by respecting and reveling in memories of them while living our lives (as everyone else has said) to the fullest.

*sigh* Do you ever have a hard time conveying your thoughts as eloquently as you'd like? I hope you understand what I'm trying to say.

John said...

This is so good Steph. I don't even know where to begin.

The thing about complacency is, you rarely know you're in the midst of it until, for some reason, the angle of perspective shifts. For example, I'm guessing that you didn't think of yourself as complacent by walking the same direction around the lake day in and day out. You were just doing it. You enjoyed it. It was good. It wasn't until you saw it from a different angle that you realized that all this time it could have been better. Your change of perspective changed your perspective. The mountains were always there waiting to be noticed. The path around the lake was always there waiting to be walked a new way. Nothing changed except your perspective.

I have always loved your perspective. It has changed my life. Truly. I love that you're focus toward Lisa will be love--not simply words--that's just who you are. Words in this case, would just not touch this unfathomable pain. You've heard me say this before Steph, but here goes again--"Just be you, that will be plenty."

Anonymous said...

i am so sorry. that is just awful. poor lisa. i cannot even imagine such a thing. my thoughts and prayers are with her and her family.

Steph said...

TN~ I know how you feel. This event also makes me fear for my kids and their activities. You're right about how we choose to live life. there is nothing like this type of tragedy to show us that no one is immune.

WIP~ You're right...it's like trying to get past that first paragraph in a term paper. Hopefully I won't have to do the full blown resume blaast, but we'll see. Thanks for your thoughts. And yes! I often have trouble finding the right words. But I hear you and appreciate what you've said. :)

John~ I love your perspective. And the funny thing is that YOU think you've learned so much from ME! :)
And as far as loving Lisa, well that's the easy part. And, thanks to you, I learned how to love my friend from the best.

Kate~ Thank you for your thoughts an prayers. It's so encouraging to me that someone like you who lives so far away sends such kind thoughts to a family she doesn't even know. Thank you.

srp said...

Here from Michele.

I could never begin to understand what your friend is going through. All anyone can do is remember the family in prayer and be there to listen, cry with, remember, and hold their hand.

Please send my condolences.

Anonymous said...

Funny how habits serve us in one sense (I don't think about shaving, I just do it) and yet the hinder us too (as in they keep us from these wonderful moments) Thanks for visiting earlier too.

Lazy Daisy said...

I'm so sorry for your friend and her loss. How heartbreaking. It certainly does put life in perspective though. The things we think are earth shattering really aren't. May God give you grace to comfort her.

Anonymous said...

What a terrible thing to happen to your dear friend. I'm so sorry for her loss. I recently lost my mother, and I can only say that the best thing you can do is talk to your friend. Pick up the phone and call her and let her know that you are there if she needs you. Many people gave me space while my mother passed, but I really needed to talk to my closest friends. Some were afraid of intruding. Don't be afraid. The sound of your voice will help her heal.

carmilevy said...

You are already there for her in ways that are felt as much as seen. I just know that you'll instinctively do the right thing to help her through this unimaginably huge tragedy - friends do that. And you've always shown us what a good soul is and what a good soul does. So shall you continue to do so for Lisa and her family.

I am praying for her, for her family, and for you. I wish we all had friends like you.

Renee said...

What a thought provoking MM. I will pray for your friend and her family. Thanks for making me really think this morning about how short life is and how we should really stop and smell the flowers!

David said...

You wrote that you didn't know what to do for your friend Lisa, other than love her and pray for her. Whether you know it or not, you *are* doing so much with those two acts. Prayer is focused intent and love, in its purest form is a type of prayer.

Be well.

shpprgrl said...

What a view!! Thanks for sharing.... I'm very sorry about Lisa's son. That is the worst hurt imaginable.