By SUSAN DROMEY HEETER, Joyful Musings
My husband was out fishing earlier this summer, the bugs were bad and then a can of Off-Deep Woods rolled up in the waves. A full can. I muse joyfully of these moments of coincidences, of wonderful connections that cannot be planned and invite a “Wow.”
A few weeks ago, I drove my daughter to her job in Ogunquit, Maine. It’s a beautiful drive from Dover but not one I like making too often. And on Friday, rather than drive back and forth, I opted to spend the day on Foot Bridge Beach; I had my chair, had, of course, worn my bathing suit, was ready for a day of sun, of reading, of walking.
And, as anyone knows who’s been to the beaches in Ogunquit, the walking is fabulous – long, long shorelines, a plethora of beach to walk, to sift through the water, to witness Americans, Canadians playing boule, softball, building sandcastles.
But when I began my walk I glanced over and saw a familiar face, my cousin, Jim, a cousin I’d not seen in years and years. He looked over and asked, “Susie?” And then, of course, a “What are the odds?” came up and that invitation of “Wow.”
And we talked of how I have transformed into my mother, his “Aunt Nancy” and Jim recollected how my father would wear black socks and wing tips on the beach. Uncle Tom never knew how to swim and with his Irish heritage and skin, the beach was as comfortable to him as the Wicked Witch of the West at Water Country.
We laughed. Caught up. I met three of his grandchildren, three beautiful girls – daughters of one of Jim’s beautiful sons. I laughed with his wife, Donna, still stunning after years, still the same “cool girl” I’d met back in the 70s.
It’s glorious to have these moments of “Wow” blissful to have chance moments of bug spray arriving in the waves, a cousin spotted on a crowded beach. I muse joyfully on the summer of 2019 which was, for me, one of the tops. Swimming and walking and glorious moments of “Wow.”
May you, Joyful Musers, enjoy and celebrate your moments of coincidences. They are everywhere when we look, when we walk, when we fish, when we ponder.
And who knows what may roll up in those waves…perhaps a moment of “Wow.”
Susan Dromey Heeter is a writer from Dover who recently let her hair go au natural white. Writing has been her passion since her English majoring days at the University of Massachusetts in Amherst. Dromey Heeter has lived in The Netherlands, Alaska and currently basks in all things New England, including the frigid winters. An avid swimmer, Dromey Heeter’s great passion is to bring back body surfing as most children have no idea how to ride waves without ridiculous boogie boards.
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