Last I remember, I was happily swimming in the ocean water. There was a light breeze in the air and multi-colored kites were flying high in the sky above. I could see my carefully picked-out spot on the beach where my umbrella and warm blanket awaited my return.

I was unusually aware of the sun’s strong rays shining down upon me. I had a relaxed confidence with the depth of the water that I found myself in. Life was good.

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a strong current grabbed me and started pulling me away from the security of the shoreline, deeper and deeper into the ocean.

Panic started to set in. I felt a desperate need to get back to the beach. I started swimming but my energy was depleting fast. Exhaustion came quickly. Drowning seemed inevitable. I had no choice but to stop fighting the current and let it take me where it wanted.

***

Mike is progressing so well. He is now working with Jaycee on walking without a cane or walker. He’s been doing 10 laps around his kitchen bar just about every day to build up his strength and endurance. It’s an incredible goal that he is meeting head-on.

The wedding is five months away and he is starting to feel stressed by that. I told him you can’t rush time but you don’t have to wait for it either. I believe in him. When his mind is focused and strong, he can accomplish anything.

He also has been blessed with a great rehabilitation doctor, Dr. Doyle, who is the greatest thing to have come out of Sunnyview. He is tattooed like Mike, about 45-ish and immediately bonded with him. He will follow Mike for the rest of his recovery. I was able to sit in on that appointment, and it was like a breath of fresh air was breathed into Mike’s rehabilitation.

What was so impressive was when Dr. Doyle came in the room, he already knew all about Mike and what he’d been through the last six months. He told us he had read the file and it was obvious that he put a lot of time into familiarizing himself with everything that’s happened from the date of admission to Albany Med forward.

Most importantly, though, he really looked at Mike and saw the “before”. No doctor has ever done that. Half of them don’t even make eye contact with Mike.

We spent about two hours in his office at the end of the day and when we left, his staff had gone home. He never rushed us or seemed distracted. He answered all of our questions and told us he will be taking care of everything that the stroke took away from Mike. He has a plan going forward on how to recover each one of the deficits. It was a very comprehensive and hopeful visit.

***

Last week, after my half marathon, Mike and I drove from Michigan to Niagara Falls. I had a week of union training to attend. It was another beautiful fall day, dry roads, perfect for a 6-hour drive. We listened to music and chatted about our upcoming wedding. We took stretch and restroom breaks.

About 20 minutes before getting to our hotel, we stopped at a Tops to get some groceries and use the restroom. By this point, it was 7:30 pm and we were exhausted.

I took Mike out of the car in his transport chair because walking all the way into the store and back to the car would have been too much for him after such a long car ride.

We got back into the car and headed to Niagara Falls. We were both so tired and looking forward to being able to relax for the rest of the evening.

It was a little bit confusing and frustrating getting to the hotel, but I managed to finally find it. When I pulled up to the front, there were six cars blocking the entrance area where I would be able to get Mike out of the car and check in.

I knew ahead of time that parking was across the street so I would need to unload the bags before being able to park for the night. No valet parking here. No one to help take the bags to the room.

At this point, I just needed to get us into the room and I decided to park illegally in a fire lane and pray no one would report us.

My plan: Get checked in and get Mike into the room, then come back out, wait for the cars to clear so I could unload the bags and park across the street.

I went to the back of my car to get the wheelchair for Mike and, to my horror, it wasn’t there.

I stood dazed and confused for about a second before it dawned on me that I must have left it in the Tops parking lot.

Immediately, I went into a panic. I started opening and closing doors and searching through our very packed car for a wheelchair that clearly was not there.

I started hyperventilating.

How could I forget something so important? How could I drive away from it and not realize? What’s the matter with me? And now it’s late and we are tired and I have to go back and I don’t even remember where we were or how to get back there.

And then, the more worrisome thought: What if the chair is not there when we go back?

I slumped back in my seat and hung my head in defeat.

Mike gave me a few seconds of quiet before he said, “Babe, it’s okay. You’ve got so much on your plate. It’s not your fault. You’re amazing. At least you didn’t forget me in the parking lot.”

Just the way he said it and the image of that made me burst out laughing.

I looked at him and said, “I love you so much.” He said, “I love you, too.”

I sat there and just tried to catch my breath and collect my thoughts. I started Googling “Tops near me” but nothing looked familiar. I didn’t pay attention to the name of the area where we stopped.

Then, I remembered I had the Tops receipt. I calmly went to the back seat and got the receipt out of the bag. Luckily, it had the address and phone number on it.

Thank you, God!

I gave Mike the phone number to call while we drove back to the store. The manager told him a customer who was next to me in the parking lot brought it into the store once I pulled away.

***

Although I’m still floating in unknown waters, I know I am not alone. Because when the sea gets rough and I feel myself slipping under, Mike’s love and strength pulls me up and keeps me supported until I can tread water again.

I’m still at the mercy of the tide and where it will take me, but I will try to ride the waves instead of fear them. And I know I will make it back to the beach someday.

It may be a different spot than I had before and the protection of my umbrella may be gone…

But I won’t let that stop me from playing in the sand.