Moody Blues

The many moods of the sea were taunting us last week, as we made our annual family trek to the Gulf of Mexico. It started with iceberg waters, clear as crystal and frosty as mugs of rootbeer in the freezer. But the grandkids didn't care. They were frothing about in it like it was the Fourth of July, teeth chattering, goosebumps and all. The skies were gorgeous, the wind misty and sweet. The days were balmy and pleasant. The water got warmer, the longer we were there. Some of the time, we stayed in the pool because it was just easier. One day, we rented a big double-decker pontoon boat and trawled out to some "island" (I don't think it's an island at all), but the water was beautiful and we anchored, ate snacks and sandwiches and swam circles with the kids in the glory of God's creative genius. The next-to-last day, we hauled our grand mess down to the beach one last turn and stayed in the water the whole time. The older I get, the more I know how precious these days are, even though there are more of them under my belt. The kids are getting bigger, they can enjoy their cousins more and more, their independence grows each year. But especially this time, I looked at them and felt like I was seeing flashes of their parents. Wasn't that just last year that we were doing the same things with them? The page turns so quickly. 

The evenings on our vacations are special too. Our adult children are smart. They feed their kids, get them cleaned up and off to bed. Folks in other environs let their progeny stay up half the night when they're on holiday, but my people know that if everyone's tired, no one's having any fun. After the kids are asleep, the adults gather around for games, serious conversations (with deep, meaningful questions) and some medicinal belly laughs. I'm talking the kind that leave your ribs aching the next day. I look forward to this part the most. There have been years when there was drama, difficulty or pain, but usually it gets resolved. This year, we had a lot of peace, contentment and just a sweet sense of love. We've all experienced some kind of loss or trials, but have also been buoyed by God this year and were able to share that with each other while we were there. This is a bit of heaven on earth that doesn't always happen. I bless Him for that. 

We came wheeling it home, (I felt on two wheels) as I negotiated a contract Saturday night. I have been grumpy ever since, cleaning up clothes, sand, mopping up emails and work details. I just wasn't ready to jump back into the real world. This afternoon, Ken and I walked to town, to pick up his truck from the shop. I was wearing a new pair of shoes, not broken in yet, so I was even crabbier by the time we got there. He was all jolly and nice, trying to make conversation, but I wasn't having it. (He even carried my purse all the way to town). We popped over to Chick Fila for a quick supper before our granddaughter Maddie's last soccer game of the season, then we settled at the field. I sat there, ole' Grumpy Gills. Somewhere in the hours, my rusty heart softened a little bit. It might take it a few more days before it's pumping right again though. Dear Jesus, You've gotta help this gal. And please help poor Ken. He might need an extra dollop of grace, since apparently the sea isn't the only thing with a mood problem...