September 30 ,2016
My Grandmother Jean always insisted that I look up because there would undoubtedly be a clue or gift to see and while I listened, I never quite understood the metaphor. The obvious denotation was for me to walk proudly with my head up and not shuffle my feet. But as motherhood and gray hairs have settled in, it has come to reference much more.
This is the Bar/Bat-Mitzvah Shabbat – number 13. Steve and I were pretty stoked to celebrate at Lido Beach with several of our friends, but as Thursday and then Friday rolled around, each set of friends had to “take a rain check.” It wasn’t raining, but all insisted that we regroup at another time. Steve and I were left with just each other to celebrate. Well as always we found this quite humorous, packed our paddleboards and the paraphernalia that accompanies them, picked up stuffed vegetable subs from Publix, and trotted to our familiar Vamo Road launch course. As we were driving and recapping our week, a huge road blinking sign appeared, “Expect Delays.” alerting us to the pavements makeovers. We thought little of it and proceeded to our destination. We parked in the deserted area, and unloaded. We boarded our paddleboards and headed northeast paddling into the wind for a core workout. While the water off of Vamo can be murky, on this day it was brackish and environmentally disturbing. Cutting the water with my paddle, moldy green jellyfish began emerging. I peered back at Steve and shouted, “In all my water experiences, I have never seen green bobbing jellyfish clustered together.” He agreed, and we did a 180 degree turn around. We loaded the boards back into the truck and decided to head to Turtle Beach – to the Gulf side. The immediate stench of dead fish hung in the air and with each breathe our throats and lungs reacted negatively. We toggled our heads, rolled up the windows, cranked the air conditioning, and disappointedly commented, “Red tide.”
Our journey lead back to poolside where we blessed the Shabbat candles, ate our now soggy subs, drank our Shabbat rum concoctions, dangled our legs in the clean water, and played reggae music from our original iPod. I suppose what that sign “Expect Delays” meant was just that…our Shabbat celebration was delayed. And time and time again Grandma is still right as if I keep my head up, I will see a sign that will help me navigate most circumstances.
Shabbat shalom and “expect delays!”