On the weekend I had quite a distressing incident happen to me. Actually I don’t think I can ever really remember feeling this distressed. Or completely helpless and powerless to do anything about the situation.
I went to the beach late on Sunday afternoon with BJ to have a quick dip at Bronte Beach. It was cool but the water wasn’t too bad. I dove in the water. Woah, that was fresh. Swam under a wave, surfaced took a couple of strokes on my bodyboard then felt it. I don’t think I’ll ever forget this feeling ever again. The feeling of my wedding ring off my finger and flying into the waves at Bronte.
I completely freaked. I just didn’t know what to do besides freak out. The rip at Bronte is always strong. I knew that. I’ve been hitting this beach since I was teenager. I made a couple of feeble attempts to swim under the waves and try and find it. But fuck, it was past 5pm, the sun was set already so it was getting pretty dark. On top of that my eyesight these days it pretty bad without glasses, so I couldn’t really see that much in focus anyhow.
BJ noticed that I was looking distressed and came to see what was wrong. He helped me make a few more attempts at trying to find it. But I knew it was gone. Perhaps I should have tried harder when it initially came off my finger, but its too late to bother thinking about that. I know I’ll chew myself out over it for years to come like I have time and time again over things so much more insignificant compared to this though.
Well that pretty much finished off the surf early. BJ came back to car with me. I gave Rozie a call and told her the bad news. She took it really well. I think I’m way more bummed about it than she is. I still kills me to think about it and feel that I don’t have it there on my finger.
