Tag Archives: Water Skiing

Family Get Together at the Lake

It’s been an enjoyable week at the lake. Wendy and I headed down last Sunday to meet my folks, my sister Jody, along with our niece Emma and her friend Melissa. Our guests spent the early part of the week with us and left for home mid-day Wednesday.

It’s been a memorable year for my folks. Late last summer my mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Then, in January, my dad was diagnosed with cancer (multiple myeloma). They sold their townhouse last month and moved into an apartment in a local retirement community. Needless to say it’s been an eventful and stressful few weeks for them. They are still in the midst of unpacking and a few days at the Playhouse were just what the doctor ordered to provide them with some much needed R&R.

It’s been a rainy year at the lake thus far. Until this week I don’t believe that Wendy and I have experienced a day without rain here at the Playhouse. Fortunately, we had some very nice weather for the first few days. We enjoyed some boat rides and a lot of time on the dock in the sun. I took Jody out skiing early on Tuesday and she got up on one ski without a hitch. Not bad for a quintagenarian! We also rented a paddle board and enjoyed tooling around the back of the bay with it.

It was a special time with the folks. For so many years they hosted family and friends here at lake and provided for so many memories and special times. Wendy and I are so excited that we can return the favor and allow them to enjoy some time together at this special place. Dad was kind enough to pitch in and help with a few chores. Mom

As always, family meals were a high point of our time together, and we enjoyed playing cards in the evening together. The time passed far too quickly, but that seems to be the case here at the lake.

Wendy and I are looking forward to some quiet time together before heading home on Saturday.

Chapter-a-Day Psalm 13

English: Right knee.
English: Right knee. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

O Lord, how long will you forget me? Forever?
    How long will you look the other way?
How long must I struggle with anguish in my soul,
    with sorrow in my heart every day?
    How long will my enemy have the upper hand?
Psalm 13:1-2 (NLT) 

I reached a significant waypoint in the journey last week while vacationing at the lake. On Thursday morning my friends Justin and Chad joined me for an early morning water skiing adventure. It was a gorgeous morning and the lake was nearly like glass. It was the morning after July 4th so virtually no one was out on the water after the previous night’s festivities. I have been water skiing since I was a kid. While I have only been on water skis once in the past several years, it’s a lot like riding a bike so I figured it would be no problem. I did ski and everything was wonderful, right up to the point that I wiped out. Apparently, my body can’t handle wiping out the way I remembered it doing as a teenager and in my twenties. If I’m going to wipeout, I guess it is no longer advisable to water ski.
Waypoint reached.

According to my doctor, my skiing adventure did a number on the medial collateral ligament of my right knee along with some accompanying damage to the meniscus. It also caused separation of the 7th rib on my right rib cage. At best I can look forward to six weeks of moderate pain and discomfort in both places as my body heals. Knee brace, ice, anti-inflammatories, and take it easy.

David, who was the King of Israel about 1000 B.C., wrote the lyrics of Psalm 13 when he was struggling with an on-going illness. I think almost every human being has, at one time or another, struggled with what feels like an endless ailment of some kind. Some of us know the life-and-death struggle of on-going disease. Others of us are annoyed constantly by a disability or medical issue. Even a relatively minor and microscopic tropical parasite can do an acute number on our insides and leave us wondering if death itself might be a welcome relief.

Times of pain and discomfort are all part of the journey. Crying out in anguish is part of the human experience. And from the depths, if we choose, we mine all sorts of wisdom that will benefit us the rest of the way. It is what it is.

Honey, can you hand me that ice pack?
Six weeks?
Really?

[sigh]