From Sadness to Gladness

[Marlene Anne Sassaman]

A few days ago I received an e-mail from a good friend. Her brother, who was also a friend of mine passed away earlier that morning. As the tears continued to flow I went through the regular morning rituals. Then, I rowed myself to town to get some exercise while savoring the memories of Mike. It was Mike, who put me on the biggest boogie board ride of my life. Surely, it only seemed logical that after he encouraged me to 'jump, on the count of 3' that he would follow me into the swollen waters.
The 60 degree water temperature had me paddling fast and furiously. By the time I became breathless I turned 180 degrees back toward the slippery shale rock that I leaped off. No Mike to be seen. Quelling my fear of where he might be I slowly paddled a little further out to sea. After all, a 5 or 6 foot breaking surf was not where I wanted to be. Eventually I could see Mike's silhouette about 100 yards to the west. He was obviously making his way toward Super Tubes. Here I was alone in the waters of South Africa; Jeffries Baai; home of one of the professional surfers mecca.
I took in a deep breath and began the mantra Mike instilled. Paddle parallel to the wave until you want to go to shore.

Paddle I did. First at my normal rate. Then, the belly of the Arctic waters lifted me. Higher and higher. The downward slope ahead was so gradual I didn't sense of 'going over the falls.' It wasn't like the short steep 3 footers I was used to at Boardwalk in Indialantic, Florida. No, it was just a gentle view. The acceleration was slow at first. Before I knew it I was speeding along. My quick glance to shore reminded me how close to the beach the rocks were. Suddenly I was facing them. Within seconds, I was speeding faster than ever. Grasping the built in hand holds on my Morey 7.7 Boogie board I swear my friends back home could hear me 'ya hooing.' In an instant the flat volcanic rock was gliding under me. My knees bent, my flippers in the air I slipped along to a quiet stop. Swish, an unforgettable ride, an unforgettable time, thanks for a memorable friend, Mike.

Now, Mike has joined the ranks of those who have gone before him. Tomorrow, or next time I get internet service I will share the gladness that hours after reading about Mike's passing, came into my life. . .