Saturday, May 15, 2010

Sailing

If you're looking for a post called "Something for Everyone", I deleted it.  (Then I re-leted it. It's now the next post in line. Yes, I know.  I need help.)

It kind of came off as though I was making light of a mental illness.  That's not like me, at least not here. 

In September, 1998, Hurricane Georges blew through the Caribbean, and right smack over our house in Guaynabo, Puerto Rico.  For a couple of kids from Granger, Utah, this was a brand new, who'da thunk it would happen to us experience.  But that's not the story here.

After the storm passed by, there were maybe twelve hours where a constant breeze blew over the island.  Considering that there was no electricity - and that meant no air conditioning and therefore nothing standing between me and the first cement mixer I could fling myself under - that breeze was heaven sent and convinced me that maybe weathering our first hurricane wouldn't be such a bad experience after all.

Ha ha.  Ho ho.  It is to laugh.

After those first twelve hours, when the last of the storm had cleared the area, the wind stopped.  Dead.  It was like a vacuum sucked all the moving air out of the atmosphere and we were left up to our whatsits in post-hurricane humidity, a meteorological state of affairs that would have to dry out three days just to work up to saturated.

And there was still no air conditioning.  No refrigeration.  No cable, for crying out loud.

Yes, that was every bit as delightful as it sounds.

Anyway, that's how I've felt the last couple of weeks.  Like a hurricane has blown past and sucked all the wind out of my sails.

And I don't think I'm alone.  What is it about May?  Is it that we're sick to death of winter, of school, of the routine that has driven us along like a cattle prod since spring break?  All I know is, I've had two friends e-mail me this week telling me that their trust has been stomped on by people they cared about.  And a blogging pal write that he's struggling to move past a professional rejection and a personal wound that has taken a long time to heal. 

And of course my last post* detailed the good times I've been having here in this, the last place you can stop for gas on your way to the netherworld. (* That post has been removed on the advice of...well, someone who has the authority to advise on such matters.) 

And that doesn't even account for my darling friend's trials as she cares for a child with a potentially terminal heart condition at the same time her husband has lost his job.  Nor for the feelings of frustration and confusion when my efforts to help her earned me a rebuke from the very people I would have expected to be first in line.

So clearly, I'm still trying to rally from what has been kind of a rough few weeks.  And the post I pulled was proof that the backup generator hasn't been sufficient to get me under way just yet.

No worries.  Back in the islands, the trade winds returned after a few days, as did the electricity, and we cleaned up the debris and patched the leaks and moved into a gentle tropical autumn.

I'm confident that breezier days are ahead for all of us, if we can just get past the heat and the hurt. 

And in the meantime, perhaps we can pull out the oars and paddle our boats a little closer together.

Keep each other company, 'til the wind fills up our sails.

26 comments:

Connie said...

This post has really hit me. I have a friend who passed away on Mother's Day. After the coroner did his job, he announced to my friend's only child, that she had died from an over dose of prescription medicine. She must have felt that there was no wind for her sails; her life must have been sucked right out of her. If only we could have paddled her boat for her to bring her closer...

What is it with May?

Looking forward to meeting you at CBC.

LisAway said...

I think I see why people love you so much.

Brooke said...

I had to go back and re-read "Something for Everyone" (which, thankfully, is saved on my Google Reader) because I thought it was hilarious. I still thought it was hilarious the second time I read it.

The best thing about you, DeNae, is that you are a REAL person. You're funny, quirky, compassionate, honest, descriptive and genuine. And when I read your posts - whether is a smack-down tirade against noisy sacrament meetings or a tender (albeit sassy) tribute to a family member - I feel like I'm right there with you, hanging by the pool, sipping a Diet Coke and chatting with a friend. That's a gift! Thanks for sharing it with us each week.

Beka said...

Beautiful, poignant & thoughtful. Here's to brighter days, filled with much happiness. I hope you find strength and joy through it all.

Hel said...

I enjoyed getting TWO posts from DeNae today. There must be SOME wind in your sails (or maybe it is somewhere else).

I like May, just because it is my birth month - maybe that is what gives me the wind that nobody else has in May. I feel lucky. I really do hope things start to pick up for you DeNae. xoo

Smith Family said...

My goodness, I can SO relate. We are leaving to visit family in Idaho in a month and a half and for the last couple of weeks I have been wishing it was tomorrow. I find myself saying almost on a daily basis, "What is WRONG with these people?" or "Where AM I?" Thankfully, your posts help keep me sane and smiling. Thanks and keep em' comin!! :)

Momza said...

This just affirmed to me, that I'm not the only one that May has rubbed the wrong way!
Everyone's kinda grumpy, impatient, and certainly NOT their best selves lately. Of course, I chocked it up to the fact that we're still getting snowed on in up here and anxious for summer weather. So thanks for this...June can't some quick enough.

JoLynne Lyon said...

You are an excellent writer, and I love the honesty. May you and the people you care about find that trade wind soon.

Kazzy said...

You have a big heart, and I am sorry this has been a hard few weeks for you. I would love t paddle my boat a little closer to people that need me, and to people I need.

Big Hugs...

Scrappy Girl said...

I think may is a transition month. We are so happy to see spring and enjoy the warmer weather...by May we are just ready to get the kids out of school and onto SUMMER FUN!

Maureen said...

I think you're right, there is something about May. I think we all need to hunker down in the arms of those who love us and get through. Darn it if that's not the only way to get to the other side. Wish we could go around instead .....

Christi said...

I have no idea who you are--and just found your blog last week---can't even remember how now. But I loved this post. And I say, "Amen." I hope your breeze picks up sooner, rather than later. But until then, I'll try to paddle in my neck of the woods and maybe it will have some effect over your way...

Wendy Ramer said...

I wish I could empathize but May has historically been a beautiful time for me. I have a dangerously nostaligic history with this month and it goes way back. May 2010 is proving true to form as it has so far presented me with mixed blessings and lifelong memories (that's about all I can share in such a public platform).

I do hope the winds of change blow in your direction very soon so you can get through this obviously difficult month for you. I'll try to spread some of my May merriment your way.

M-Cat said...

Today, I spent all of Sunday School sitting in my freakin car bawling my freakin eyes out and wanting to just go home to bed.

Your post hit right here *pointing to heart*...... I am not alone.

My sails will catch some wind. maybe tomorrow.

Thanks for your greating writing. As always!

xoxxoxoxo

Shantel said...

My google reader saved the post you deleted and - my dear - it was hilarious. I am a chucker by the way. This new post though, was the one needed to read. You are a great friend. You are honest, and your opinion is reliable. You have integrity - the kind people seek. You are definitely someone I would want next to my boat! ;0)

Cheeseboy said...

I thought the pulled post was good. This one was great. I'm sure there are happier days just around the koi pond.

I've never considered May a month of sadness and trouble. Perhaps it is because May has always been good to me. That is until this year. This year I feel like I am walking through May with my fishing waders on and they are full of water.

Lara said...

Maybe it is because it's May.

Thanks for this post, because the last few weeks haven't been so hot for me, either. The thing is, the things I am facing are big to me, but might not seem that way to others, especially in the face of much bigger trials. But we all face them.

You are awesome DeNae. I want to be just like you when I finally grow up.

becca said...

I'm just wishing that I was paddling close enough to reach over to your boat and ... splash water at you. Or give you a hug. But probably splash you. The Love kind of splash. You know.

Dorothy Rumsey said...

I'm Dorothy. The lady who was playing the bundle of sticks yesterday evening. I hope those wonderful young men singing about their mothers put some wind back in your sails. I am so enjoying your blog! I love your honesty, humor, and compassion. Thank you for adding to my life. See you in the fall for our next class. Thankfully, May will be far behind us by then.

Kimberly said...

You are so, so lovely.

Spring has arrived here in the north earlier than usual. It's worth waiting for. Truly.

Kristina P. said...

May is my birthday month, so it's usually pretty good. But it's also Mother's Day, which is hard for me, given my relationship with my mom.

Thanks for being my shoulder to cry on, my friend.

Serene is my name, not my life! said...

I have to admit under my breath, it's kind of nice for me to know that I'm not the only one who's been struggling this last little while.

Braden said...

"the routine that has driven us along like a cattle prod since spring break" awesome sentence. I think this was a great post. Good thoughts. And here's to the trade winds!

L.T. Elliot said...

Oh, DeNae, I wish I read this earlier. My sails are limp and ragged and my ship is listless. I've been feeling this same thing too but I've been so lost in it, I completely dropped the paddles and let myself become so adrift, I didn't know which direction to begin paddling toward. (Which I had to use a pail to do, anyhow.)

*hugs* I love ya.

tavis said...

You don't know how much I needed this post. I've felt the boats around me lately.

Love you!

WV: gesesses Nothing clever to say about it other than I thought it was funny.

AS Amber said...

Uh ya...that comment left by "tavis" was actually me. I'm sure you figured that out by now.

I've been struggling the last couples weeks, too. I hope you're ok. I hope your friend's child is ok. Sorry you got rebuked for trying to help. What's that all about?

Love you, sister!