Waves and dreams

I had a very vivid dream last night about Jeff Kath, who graduated high school with me and, soon afterwards - before he could start college on his full-ride basketball scholarship - was killed by a drunk driver. I wonder why exactly I should think of him now of all times (and all places). We weren't friends, we never talked, I remember no significant personal exchanges with this kid. But last night we went out dancing. I thought maybe my mind had subconsciously filed away the date of August 18th: it's possible that yesterday was the 11th anniversary of the day that drunk driver smashed into Jeff's car. So I googled him, to see if his obituary was cached somewhere... but of course it wasn't. When he died the Internet was barely a twinkle in anyone's eye. So there's no trace of him anywhere, electronically, that I can find.

There is and was no grief involved for me (we truly didn't have much to do with each other), so why would he spring up from my subconscious, whole and laughing and very much alive? Maybe it was the fact that he was the first not-old person I knew who died. Weird. And unsettling.

Also slightly unsettling was taking a faceful of seawater today, which caused me to choke and miss another wave, which subsequently stuffed more saltwater into my stomach and lungs, causing me to gag and generally become less than safe for a period of time in the red-flagged sea, until I dragged myself through the undertow into shore.

I missed the wave because I shut my eyes for a second, pondering the unfeeling strength of the tide and the wind and the waves. Pondering how when you stand stubbornly in one place, the sand shifts beneath you and the waves come crashing over your head, but when you become a little more flexible, roll with the punches, rise and fall with the waves, it's not only pleasant but fun. You have to be on your toes constantly, searching for new footholds. You have to figure out where the next wave will break and what your strategy will be: ride it out, turn your back on it, or just dive in.

There must be a few life lessons in this for me: Stay on your toes. Contemplate, but do it with your eyes open. Roll with the punches. Ride the waves.

But I don't know what the lesson is about Jeff.