House of dreams
Originally uploaded by skron.
It is hard to pick a dream second house. Would it be the house in Tuscany or Provence? Or the one on my private island in the Bahamas where I spend my too cold Chicago winters? (Can you believe it was dark before I left work at 5 today?)
But as luck would have it, my father bought one of my dream houses as his second home. He and his wife recently purchased a home in a development on the Pacific Northwest coast. It is not one of the ones in the picture but is nearby in the same development. I'd take any of the ones pictured, although I like the one that is a sea foam blue-green and the one that is natural wood with red. The homes are a 10 minute walk from the ocean which is left untouched by the development.
The Washington beaches are my "relaxation place". To explain, I spent many happy days hiking, backpacking and camping on beaches in the Olympic National Park. Nothing could be better to me than walking barefoot on the beach looking for rocks or sea shells.
When I became an Intern during my medical training, one of my supervisors noticed I looked stressed. At the time, I was abashed it showed. With more than a few years distance behind me, I now wonder why I was ashamed to be seen to be so pressured. After all I was having overnight call every 4th night, learning a new field under challenging conditions, and raising a toddler. There were too many days when my idea of quality time was to sit with my son on my lap while I tried not to fall asleep in the middle of Barney.
At any rate, my supervisor called me aside and offered to make me a relaxation tape. She created a tape which walked me through a restful scenario. Part of the process was my describing in as much, multi-sensory detail as possible, the place I considered the most restful in the world. The beach I described could have been one near my father's new house. This tape was a marvel. The more I listened to it, the more power it had to relax me. One time listening to it I fell asleep. Another time it cured a migraine. I wish I hadn't lost it years ago.
And now I can go there whenever I can take a break and visit my family. I can walk on the beach, watch my kids at play, and listen to the waves and the sea gulls. I may not be a poet but there is poetry there. Thanks, Dad.