As I walked along, I thought a great deal about my neighbor, Jim, who has bone cancer. Earlier this morning I went over to sit with him on his porch while we both drank coffee and chatted, mostly he doing the chatting. He has seemed depressed, and who wouldn't be when you have been given a diagnosis of "terminal cancer" until we realize that each one of us has been given the diagnosis at the very least of "terminal" by definition of our mortality? He told me he was taking Wellbutrin but thought it wasn't working anymore. We talked about other things as well, watching the hummingbirds dive bombing one another and listening to the birds chirping in the day.
Thinking about Jim as I walked along the beach made me want to bring him something to show him that he was still on my mind. I found a sand dollar, and because we had been talking about the economy and the lack of growth in Costa Rica, I thought I would bring him one. It was an older one with holes that leaked sand as I carried it; I looked for a fresher one and found it washing it off and putting the other one down in its stead. I strode on, passing my favorite landmarks, The Pelicano Hotel where we had eaten last night, the Alma with its pastel colored rooms along the beach, and the rivulet that rushes in and out with the tides.
When I turned around to walk back, I noticed two of the members of the group I had photographed. We smiled at each other, said hello, and the woman asked me if I knew where to find those "silver dollars." I knew what she was talking about and held mine in my hand. I told her they were all over the place and then gave her the one I carried. She was so grateful that she called over the other girl, insisting that she thank me for giving her a sand dollar. I was happy to have given them both such pleasure and walked on.
I thought about what else I could find for Jim, but as I was churning over some ideas in my head, I stumbled upon the very same sand dollar that I had initially picked up. I took possession of it once again, washing off the sand in the waves, and tucked it gently into my palm. I felt that the universe had just made things right until I saw another sand dollar in the sand, and another. It was as though I were being given an enormous reminder about the gift of giving, and I was the one who was benefiting! Such bounty, such grace!
I waked back and put two sand dollars on the coasters on Jim's porch table, one for him and one for his wife. I was struck by the extraordinarily easy reminder I was given, and I felt richer for having had the encounters of the morning, all showing me what it means to live and to love.
This afternoon I thought I would pull out my poster paints - all I could find last time I was down here - and I tried to paint a little flower arrange,net I'd made. Beneath is the dreadful evidence that proves materials matter, and I would probably be wiser to stick to other creative endeavors... Like collecting sand dollars.
The actual arrangement outside on my porch
The evidence that my time would be better spent
The actual arrangement outside on my porch
The evidence that my time would be better spent
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