The wave of time always amazes me. The ebb and flow. And here is where I am in today’s tidal flow …

Eight years ago today, I married my best friend. We had been together for nine years at that point, so it was just a formality.

We had already lived a life to that point. We started from nothing. We lived, we changed jobs and careers. We did our best to raise wonderful children. We traveled. We battled health problems. We battled each other, because sometimes best friends do that, too.

We had an extremely small and intimate wedding at the Justice of the Peace. Only her brother and her (our) daughters were in attendance, which suited us fine. It was all about having a small wedding with the people we were closest to. Our extravagant reception was at a diner. We got them to bend the law a bit by serving us Bloody Marys & Mimosas at 10:30 A.M. And it was as perfect to us as the most grand fairy-tale wedding you ever dreamed or heard of. But it wasn’t our original plan.

After almost ten years of trying to get her to marry me, she finally relented a little over a year earlier. So, why did it take over a year to plan a diminutive wedding? Well, sometimes there can be a little chop in the wave.

We had actually planned having the same wedding attendees traveling with us to Punta Cana for our fairy-tale wedding on the beach. We planned it all, including making sure it would all be legal.

Airline reservations had been made and resort accommodations had been reserved. A minister had been arranged. It was going to be a perfect occasion in a perfect place with the people who we most wanted to have with us. But then an unwanted visitor returned.

Lizzie’s cancer had returned.

Her reaction was the same as it had been the first time: Cut that shit out quickly so we can get on with living. She “didn’t have time for that shit”, she would say through her fear. And she always faced her fears like a beast.

Resort reservations were canceled easily. Airline reservations were not as easily altered, as USAir didn’t feel that having another chunk of lung removed due to cancer was adequate circumstance to change an already overbooked flight without some sort of penalty.

Anyway, that was one reason for the way our ceremony was planned. We simply wanted to get it done, and we could get a do-over once she had recuperated and plans could be made again. And so it was.

We managed to continue making our lives better after that day at the J.P.

We eventually made it to Punta Cana, but it was by ourselves. And it was perfect. Crystal clear water. Unbelievable food. A beautiful suite with room service breakfast looking over a tropical landscape like no other I had ever seen. It was the perfect belated honeymoon.

We eventually did renew our vows on the beach in Negril, Jamaica. It was a special place we came to love

Lizzie battled cancer. It was discovered by accident. It would show up, she would fight it, and she would win. That’s how she did business. She didn’t have time for that shit. She would worry about it coming back, but when it did, she would do whatever the doctors told her to do, then get back to living.

I did observe that every time she went to to hospital, she left with just a bit let of herself than she had walked in with. But I didn’t care. I always got her back.

I’ll not bore you with the rest of it. Suffice it to say that when cancer reared its head, she fought back with whatever weapon she was told to use. And she won. And she won some more. Remember, I told you she was a beast. She only lost one battle to cancer, and it was the last battle in a ten year war of attrition.

She lost one battle. But she won the war from my perspective. She lived hard. I think she knew she had to. And Lizzie always did what she knew she had to do.

The flow of the wave … Battles were fought, you recuperate, and then get back to living. It was how she lived. She had it down to a science. She knew the way of the wave.

Her last ride of the wave was last August 26th. Nine months ago today. I miss that chick. I miss my friend. I miss the adventure(s) we had and lived. She was what she wanted our life together to be: An Adventure.

Beginnings and endings. The compression and rarification of the continuous wave. Now to honor that, it is a time for a new beginning, and a new adventure. I do this to honer her, but also to honor myself. Lizzie would have not wanted anything less.

A line from a song by Jimmy Buffett . She printed this and gave it to me on a slip of paper in a wallet she gave me as a gift:

Some people never find it
Some, only pretend, but me, Hell:
I just want to live happily ever after every now and then …

I still carry it with me. I always will.

So, one week from today, I begin my new adventure. Lily the Wonder Cat and I will pack what we can into the car and drive away from this life to another, and into a new adventure. A new beginning. 2,700 miles away from this life I lived to a new life. New people, new possibilities, new waves to ride, and new love.

If you can stomach it, follow along. It’ll be a train wreck, but it’ll be fun.