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The Stage of Grief No One Told Me About
It’s not in the literature, but maybe it should be…
The wind was vicious. I couldn’t even stand up on my paddle board. I knew the unpredictable gusts would knock me right over.
I’d driven a long way to visit this particular lake and was incredibly disappointed that the weather report had not mentioned the wind. I thought it would be a relatively peaceful day, paddling from one end of the lake to the other.
Instead, I fretted and fussed in a little cove that had some protection from the strong wind. Should I stay in that one corner all day? Dare to venture along the shore and see if I could make it to the other side? Or should I give up and go home?
I took baby steps, deciding to try one thing, then another, promising myself I’d head home if things got rough or unpleasant. And they did, though that didn’t stop me from continuing on. Once I’m on my board, I have a hard time getting off, even when I’m not having fun. The paddle boarding season is so short, I don’t want to miss a moment, no matter how bad the conditions are.
So I persevered. I endured the wind. I remained steady on my board even in the choppiest waters. I swallowed my frustration as every wave that hit soaked my entire board and everything on it. (Thank god for dry bags.)
By the end of the day, I was proud of myself for my determination to find any bit of fun that might have been available to me. But I also felt something else. Something I didn’t expect.
I was bored.
I sat at the shore, looking around at the now-familiar landscape, a lake I’ve visited often this year, and realized I could’ve imagined it all with my eyes closed because I knew it so well. I was wearing one of three bathing suits that I use for paddle boarding, a familiar uniform to me now, that suddenly felt as old and tired as my college sweatshirt. I had eaten the same lunch and dinner, packed up the same supplies, and practiced the same skills as always.
In the weeks since my father died, paddle boarding has felt like a thrill — a challenge, an adventure, a love affair. I would rather be on my board than anywhere else, and nothing has felt as good to me as the sensation of oar against water.
