I want to send a shoutout to booktrib.com for including my post “Finding the Pocket” on their Author-ity page. Learning to surf might not be easy for a couple of ski industry professionals like me and John, but it’s worth every stroke. Check out the post here.
Friday was Liver Day at our house. Exactly three years ago John
received his liver transplant. Approximately one-half of Whitney’s, the living donor’s, liver was surgically removed and placed in John’s abdomen. I remember the day at the Mayo Clinic in the waiting room, imagining the surgeons meticulously slicing and tying, opening and sealing back up. I visualized all the cancer,
including John’s bile ducts, getting thrown in the garbage bin beside the operating table.
I would like to say that in the three years since John’s transplant, we’ve lived every day as well as we possibly could. While that’s not exactly true, it’s pretty close. We have made a ritual of gratitude, voicing all the tiny and grand things that we are grateful for every day. Spontaneity has ruled around here.
We’ve learned to surf, we’ve jumped out of an airplane, we’ve traveled to Bhutan and Costa
Rica, we’ve logged in some serious powder turns.
Going forward I want to keep this momentum going. Life is precious. This miniscule little flame we are given must be tended and appreciated. It’s brief, but brilliant, and I hope we don’t miss any of it. I hope the angel of gratitude always sits at our table.
It’s easy to rack up transcendent moments, if you simply look around and appreciate them.
What about you? What are you grateful for today?
Check these guys out. They have all the “raditude” or real surfers, without the risk of coral rash or getting stuffed by a killer wave. Plus, I love the dog tow-in. I’m going to try that next time I need a little help out on the break.
It makes perfect sense. Ski in the winter, surf in the summer. After a week with Hillary at Peaks and Swells Surf Camp, learning to ride the waves in Costa Rica, both John and I are hooked. As we flew home yesterday, my husband regaled me with future surf destinations–Bali, Peru, Maui. Hey what about those isolated breaks north of Vancouver Island that we see from the float plane? Could we surf those? I think it’s going to take a few more
waves before we’re ready for anything like that, but we’re on our way.
This weekend marks the end of Crystal Mountain’s “regular” season and the beginning of the spring season. We will be open for skiing on weekends (starting with Thursdays and Fridays too). Personally my fingers are crossed for a good corn cycle and long, sunny days on the mountain. After that, who knows? Maybe more surfing.
Oh yeah, and in between surfing and skiing, my memoir, The Next Fifteen Minutes, comes out in November. So I need to squeeze in some promotion here and there–maybe a quick guest appearance on the Today Show or Oprah’s final episode or something. As long as it doesn’t cut into my surfing time, that is.
Seriously though, I’m feeling like a very lucky girl. By all rights, my husband isn’t even supposed to be alive. Even more than catching waves myself this past week, I loved watching John catch them. Most of all, I loved the look on his face. Determined to catch a wave, then focused while up and finally exultant as he learned to carve and turn along the face of the glassy curlers, I thanked the universe for our luck.