The Pastor's Wife

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My husband, Hank, thought he was getting a beach chic for life. Yep, back there in 1977, I had straight blonde hair, wore flowery dresses made of soft fabrics that flowed. I wore Mexican off-the-shoulder blouses, lived in the beach town of La Jolla, and even went swimming in the ocean.

But, as the years flew by, this former beach chic has grown into a woman who isn’t wild about sand. And, when I actually do go, I dress for the beach as if it’s an all out war against the sun – which, for me, it is now. Gone are the flow-y dresses and the long blonde hair. Now, I wear fitted clothes and have a cropped hairstyle that feels just right.

Hank’s love of all things beach is still strong, however. Where he loves to pound the sand. I prefer to pound the pavement. Out in the ocean is where he feels at home – a human fish, a sleek body surfer, dashing in and out of the waves, arms stretched wide.

I’ve no understanding of waves or ocean currents. I don’t know about ground swells or close outs. The whole surfing thing scares me. I keep my phone by my side to get his call when he’s out of the water. “All good,” he’ll say. His voice is charged with delight. It always is when he gets out of the water.

I don’t relate to this hobby of Hank’s. He’s got a body surfing blog, checks waves on webcams, and often drives an hour and a half on a Sunday morning to his favorite surf spot. When our sons, both avid surfers, come to dinner, it always comes around to surf talk.  Last summer, Hank bought our son-in-law, from Cleveland, a new pair of Duck Feet fins. He’s in the fold.

But, here’s the big benefit for me. Besides having a husband who has a healthy hobby, I get to be brought into the world of his surfer friends. People whose work and lifestyles are all different from each other. People with whom I probably would never come across - people bonded simply by their love of body surfing.

Last night was a reunion party for the group that went on the Nicaragua body surfing trip this past March. It was potluck and hosted by a couple on the trip. Everyone was interesting, welcoming, and fun in a beautiful setting with the Pacific Ocean as our backdrop.

One surfer had made a video of the trip and I found myself enjoying it even though I didn’t know that “Boom” was the surf spot, and I’ll never understand the surfer nickname thing.  

At the end of the night, Chris, one of the surfers, known as “the doctor,” thanked me for encouraging Hank to go on the trip.

And, I thanked “Pastor Hank” for introducing me to some real cool surfer dudes and dudettes.