Today’s blog
Lynn Murphy Mark
Anfractuous
This is the gift from Word Daily for this day before Thanksgiving. It is an adjective meaning “Characterized by windings and turnings”. It caught my eye and my mind as I learned how to pronounce it and read about its origin: from Late Latin anfractus, a digression, literally a bending.
I suppose my connection to the word comes from my latest road trip, where there were many bends and turns in the road from the Midwest to the Gulf Coast. We were guided by the ubiquitous voice of the lady who lives in the dashboard. She’s a bossy one, too, but she got us here. “Here” is on a Florida barrier island featuring soft white sand and the gentle waters of the Gulf of Mexico.
I have had a love affair with the ocean for more than seven decades. Yesterday afternoon Jan and I ventured out across the wide expanse of sand to the packed version at the water’s edge. Walking barefoot in that softness was actually quite the workout. I was glad to get to the firmer version where I didn’t have to lurch like someone on a bender. As I looked toward the sunset and felt the cool water on my feet I felt incredibly grateful for all the oceans that have touched me, body and soul. We walked along the waves for a short distance, noticing the families with children playing in the sand. The evidence was everywhere that little adventurous people had dug into the sand, presumably looking for treasure. There were watchful moms and dads keeping track of their little ones. There were also plenty of grandparent-aged folks as well. After all, this is Florida.
Both of my parents are part of the ocean, having made it clear that they wanted their ashes scattered in the mother of us all. I chose the waters off of Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, where we spent just about every vacation of my childhood. We went there in the days when the airport was a grass strip and there were only two hotels in town, one on each end of Playa de los Muertos. While there, part of the routine was to contract with a fisherman making his living off the tourists rather than the fish. We would go way out past the bay into the really deep water. I believe the work for its color is cerulean, the deepest blue there is. I had the run of the boat but occasionally was given a simple rod and reel to try my luck. Whatever was caught went back to the cook at the hotel, or home to the fisherman’s house for his dinner.
Back to anfractuous, the word that reminds me this morning that my life has been a series of twists and turns. It’s not so much that I orchestrated the changes, but more like the opportunities presented themselves and my instinct told me to act on them, or not. I know there have some chances that I missed, probably because it wasn’t the right time, place, or circumstance to proceed. I have no complaints about the trajectory that has carried me to so many beautiful places, and introduced me to so many beautiful people.
I was 22 when my dad died, and 32 when my mother made her transition. The majority of my life has been spent relying on the kindness of friends and strangers, rather than family. My mother taught me to be an independent child, to rely on my own whisperings, and to not fear change. I’m not always successful at the last one, but I’ve learned over the decades that I can trust God and the Universe to send me in right directions. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been around for 74 years. I did have my palm read once and the woman who held my hand advised me to stay out of cars. She frowned a little when she examined my life line and never would tell me what that frown was all about. I suppose more will be revealed. I’m ready.