She made a ton of new friends and learned not just the importance of water conservation, but how to conserve water and use aquatic resources wisely.
The girls did a water relay which was hilarious and wet. Iryna's team came in last, but she didn't seem to mind a bit.
I mean, come on. Anything that requires my kids to don a swimsuit and drench themselves like the aquatic mammals they truly are is a very good thing.
A game of Fish Fish Shark (Duck Duck Goose with a wet sponge) was a fabulous time passer requiring minimal adult involvement. With 25 girls, that's a very good thing.
Red Light, Green Light has absolutely nothing to do with water. Unless it's drizzling.
Monsoon style. Slick grass. On a hill.
The girls also learned the physics behind rain by blowing droplets of water together on wax paper.
Way more fun than you might think.
The last day, they did presentations for the parents.
Iryna discussed the importance of keeping our beaches safe, clean, and litter free. Anyone who has spent time in our paradise home in Hawaii knows that's an issue near and dear to us.
As we walked home on our final day, Iryna was excitedly chatting away about all the great friends she made. For a social butterfly, that's the point of life, after all.
Then she paused and said, "Mommy, can I tell you something?"
"Of course," I said, swinging our hands held together as we walked down the busy street.
"Well, I don't want to be racist..." she continued.
I stopped swinging, but kept walking. Drawing in a deep breath, I braced myself.
"...but..." she drawled, slowly.
I held that deep breath.
"...black people..."
I walked stoically, face unchanged, breath still held, mind racing.
"...are really, really nice," she finally finished as I burst out laughing.
"Yes, yes, they are. Most people in general are very friendly, outgoing, and nice. African American culture places a high priority on these qualities. But everyone is individual and shouldn't be judged on stereotypes. Positive or negative--"
"Hey, look!" She interrupted my lecture on stereotypes with a shout and a point. "A rose!"
Sure enough, growing through some weeds on the side of a cracked sidewalk was one single, beautifully formed, long stem hot pink rose. It was perfectly unstereotypical.
Beauty in unexpected places is the sweetest beauty of all.
We woke up this morning to Skype with Freyja. Dan had arranged his day, and Freyja's pain meds, so we could see her and she could hear our voices.
It was wonderful to see our girl. She looked great and seemed so happy. Because of the pain meds, she was feeling good and not limping, but I could tell just by the way she was holding herself that something wasn't right.
We called to her and she got excited, with this big, delicious grin on her face. She looked around and came toward the sounds of our voices. It was a sweet, beautiful sight.
Dan, Skadi, and Freyja cuddled up and had some belly rubs and love. It wasn't quite like being there, like being able to bury our hands in that thick German Shepherd Dog mane of hers, and snuggling our noses into the nape of her neck, but it was so good to see the trio enjoying each other's company.
It was hard, too. Especially on the kids. Iryna was sobbing. "She looks healthy and happy. Why does she have to die? Why!?!"
Life is not fair. Life is sometimes cruel.
This morning was a precious gift. Thirty minutes with our girl. Thirty minutes we thought we wouldn't have when, just a week ago, we found out that cancer would rob us of our girl, taking away our last goodbye. Taking away our sweet, beautiful Freyja.
Thank you, Dan. Thank you for this gift.
Beauty in unexpected places is the sweetest beauty of all.
Post Script: Dan told me this morning of an error in my previous blog posting about him.
Dan is no longer a smoker. He quit three and a half years ago. His wife is rightly very proud of him.
Personally, I'm a big fan of smoking. But I'm a bigger fan of living. So, yeah. The ranks of the former smokers continue to swell. Major kudos to you, Dan.
"Say No, Save Life!"
I don't know about y'all, but when I've got one foot in the grave, I'm buying a carton and smoking the shit out of those things on my way out. Just sayin'.
You really are a great writer. Still wiping away tears.
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