Daily for the past few weeks, a small box from Amazon has
arrived at the door for my husband, Hank.
It’s as if he’s sprinkled out his needs for this upcoming
surf trip on a day-by-day basis – each new item opened after work, escalating
the big event. One day it’s eye drops,
the next, mosquito repellant. Yesterday it was a tan UV shirt.
Additional Go-Pro batteries, sunscreen, bio-degradable
shampoo and soap, lightweight linen drawstring pants…It’s all there spread out
in the guest room reminding me of an eager kid on his first adventure.
I love it.
Last fall, when Hank told me about the bodysurfing group
planning a trip to Nicaragua, I told him that he should absolutely do it.
You see, Hank's one of those guys who doesn’t get a whole
lot for himself, save the occasional good bottle of Cabernet - one that
he’ll hang a little tag on, and put away in the wine closet to be opened on a
special occasion.
For years, it’s been all about the children and me. He’s never hesitated to make it work
when we’ve wanted something. He’s been the guy who held back for himself. The guy who would put a coffee maker on his Christmas List. Even a pair of new
fins, he’d think twice.
Tuition bills no longer lay on the desk. The kids are all
drawing a paycheck now. It’s Hank’s
turn.
The surf has been a healthy way for him to release from work
and in the past he’s passed trips up. I have my worries, though. I always do
when he’s in the waves. He's an expert bodysurfer but anything could happen out there and he’s
not twenty-two. I brought it up to my
mother.
“Mom, for a whole week I will worry about him out there in
the surf.”
Her response was quick:
“At least, he’s hitting the waves instead of the bars with another broad.”
Enough said.
Naturally, Hank scoped the airfares, weighing all the
options, etc., insisting that his trip should be this year’s Christmas present.
“Make that my birthday, too,” he added.
“You’re buying your ticket so early it’s like a dollar
ninety-eight and you’re staying at a surf camp,” I said. “Relax, it’s not The Four
Seasons!”
Yesterday on Facebook, he posted a throwback bodysurfing
picture: “Whetting my appetite for the Nica trip starting in five days.”
Another little box from Amazon arrived this morning. “The
last one,” he told me. “Neosporin.”
My husband is another of those going on this trip. He has been doing these trips with various versions of this group of friends for years, sometimes with me along, sometimes with our son, but always with great enthusiasm, the arrival of little boxes at the door (there are always little items that need to be tried or replenished), and always with the great result of wonderful stories, terrific photos, and stronger friendships. I have never worried about them on these trips (they are a smart and reasonable bunch). I just always look forward to an invigorated, happy, smiling husband's return. Enjoy yourself, Heather (and Hank, too)! Best, one of the other partners
ReplyDeleteLove this story, and your Mom's advice! Tell him to have a blast for us!
ReplyDeleteBrady
Sounds like he's a little kid again, you should do something for fun while he's away too. Gives all us other guys something to aspire too. I'm off to Vegas next week to surf the blackjack table.
ReplyDelete