In the chaos surrounding the week prior to our annual beach vacation, I wanted one thing for myself prior to departure. I wanted cute toenails.
It was a crazy week, my sister visited for a doctor’s appointment, my son returned after completing his master’s from Berkeley, and I was coughing my head off. I had at least 100 items on my PRIOR TO THE BEACH LIST and was near to bawling all week.
This is nothing new from me and in fact my annual pre-beach meltdown is a prerequisite for vacation. As one spate of tears appeared, two of my menfolk laughed together at the predictability of the event.
Despite all this, for once, I wanted a nice pedicure for the beach. Forget lumpy legs or droopy middle aged….parts, wouldn’t it be nice to have lovely toes luxuriating in my new sandals?
I made and kept my appointment at the Nail Spa. RK, “my guy”, soaked my feet and started work. I fell into a casual conversation with the lady in the chair next to me and a bit later, realized that RK had fallen into a quiet, thoughtful repose. I looked at my toenail, and I knew why.
Many years ago, preparing for Vacation Bible School, some friends and I were carrying heavy foldable tables. I lost the grip on one and it slammed into my right big toe, filling the classroom with a haze of profanity and necessitating a trip to the ER. My toes wasn’t broken, but my toenail sure was. It never really grew in properly, instead in came in thick, crooked and discolored.
At my last (and actually my first) pedicure, RK had masterfully painted this ugly toe and it shone proudly with pink polish - right in line with the others. This pedicure, he was trying to dremel it down a bit and it just sheared off. He was horrified and did his best to patch it up - certainly not his fault and I left satisfied and a little amused.
That night I went swimming with two of my girlfriends and donned my swim fins per usual. by the end of our session that right big toe was feeling a little iffy and when I finally had the nerve to look, another piece of toenail had sheared away. I was left with a truly uglyhalf- toenail! So much for cute toenails. I was disappointed.
With no time for a toenail touchup, I searched for matching polish at the local CVS. Found some that would do and painted what was left of my toenail.
Then I continued to prepare for the beach - a whirlwind of washing clothes, packing, checking items off the list. The morning before we left, I found myself so sick that I arrived at Duke Urgent Care before it opened! I was quickly diagnosed with, as the PA said, a “rip-roaring sinus infection” and loaded up with prescriptions.
Back home we packed the car and hit the road and at last, on Sunday, I felt the relief, the relaxation, the soothing AHHHHHH that is vacation. I parked myself under the beach cabana with a book and a diet Coke. My idea of heaven.
Being Sunday there was a usual crowd of beachgoers and between chapters of Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell I enjoyed a bit of people watching. The beach is like the state fair - all sorts and sizes of folks to see. I soon noticed two women walking up from the ocean. They were in wet swimsuits and had enjoyed a brisk dip. They were laughing together and soon I realized one was holding on the other. Next I could make out that they were from two generations, with the younger woman being lead by the older. And finally, as they neared our cabana, I saw the unmistakable facial features of Down Syndrome. More importantly, I saw acceptance, pride, grace, love and JOY! Life had turned out a little different than expected, but this mother and daughter drank it in - with no worries about perfection.
I admit that I looked at my toes then as I dug them in the sand. They worked just fine and so what if one toenail looked a bit pathetic. It is in the chaos and imperfection that we learn to reach for God and in doing reach for grace and joy!
I can’t say I won’t have a meltdown come beach time next year, but I can say I will I will embrace it when it comes. After all, after every storm comes the blissful morning after.
