For people fighting Stage 4 melanoma, we are not sun people in the least. As a fair-skinned redhead (is that redundant?) I only own SPF 50 or higher and we use it anytime we are outside for any length of time. Our ideal vacation is the mountains, never the beach and we would both much rather lay in a hammock under huge shade trees than in a lounge chair poolside.

That said, when I asked what he wanted to do today, James said, “Let’s go for a drive. I’m not sure exactly where we are going, but I see water in my future.” Fortunately for us, we live near a great big lake. And within an hour of his proclamation, he had his toes in the water.

We’ve been to Lake Michigan numerous times. We have never once taken beach chairs and sat in the sun. We have never take a boat out and we have never donned bathing suits and gone into the water. But the lake still has tremendous appeal. It is remarkably ocean-like (minus the salt and sharks) and has the same eternal sense to it that I find in an ocean.

We walked the pier, took a few photos, people watched and then walked back to the car and headed to our favorite restaurant. I teased several times that I wasn’t sure who the man was beside me, but it wasn’t the husband I was used to during the last couple of months. He felt good enough to walk further than he has in a long time. He had enough energy and pain suppression that he was funny and he was not just out of bed, not just out of the house, but he was very nearly knee deep in nature. If I thought the walk last night did our souls good, today was several rungs up the ladder.

He let me drive on the way back and he crashed the moment we got back to the house and was out for the night, but for four or five hours today, he wasn’t just awake, he wasn’t just aware, he was alive. A not-so-small blessing indeed.