Death Anniversary

Two years ago today I almost died on Jacob Riis Beach.
When Cameron and I arrive the water is furious, half the shore eaten up. With little to no sand to settle on we decide the rocks are a good idea.
Each of us a has a bottle of Merlot from Trader Joe’s.
Earlier we blazed in the backyard of my building.
We felt so safe, languishing in the brilliance of our position.
In retrospect it was idiotic and almost got me killed. Water slapping against craggy rocks is far more dangerous, the tide has a stronger pull.
Idiocy also saved me.
Having the audacity to lay down, only my elbows propping me up.
When the waves crashed in I was skipped like a pebble five feet forward. My elbows preventing my head from cracking like an egg, then preventing me from being sent to sea when the water receded.

A man ran twenty feet, leaving his baby and partner to help me. Cameron just watched, gripping the neck of the wine bottle I purchased for him (he was unemployed and broke).

Between my head cracking and being sent to sea there was a 66% probability of death. I made it. What shook me to the core was that this was the anniversary of my grandmothers death. In 2003 there was a city wide black out. The hospice my grandmother resided in felt it frivolous to turn on their back up generators, all the people were there to die anyways. So the next day she did.

Almost dying instilled in me a deeper reverence for water. So when the waves are incensed you better listen you puny human. A swift reminder that we are at the mercy of nature at all times. There’s just gotta be something keeping it all together for us, because it believes we’re worth consciousness.

Photo: Diztant Dreamer