“You’ll break your neck!”
That’s what she said when informed he was taking windsurfing lessons for his 59th birthday.
She nearly wept; his legs, badly injured in the war. She got him cargo shorts, a fly fishing guide. Neither was what he needed: a major jolt. The old ways no longer satisfied. He’d watched the windsurfers; they inspired him as nothing else in years. It was his turn out there.
“What do you know of that river, its winds?”
He knew some things and wanted more. Trouble was, her adrenaline had been waylaid, passions dampened by defeatist views.
Still, friends cautioned him: age, dangers.
His strength and resolve grew.
When he at last hit water, then sailed, freedom from years of her worry and his subterranean fear arrived. Not easy; not disappointing. He fully awakened.
Finally, he turned back.
Only then did he see her with fists raised in victory.
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