As one of the shortest good-beach weather summers draws to a close, weekend warriors are savoring every bit of forecasted sunshine.  On my weekly trek from New Jersey to Connecticut, traffic on the Merritt Parkway grew heavier with each mile. I scanned the radio stations and listened for something to help pass the time.  Rod Stewart’s gravelly croon caught my attention. He was singing Forever Young, the song I dedicated to my daughter when she graduated high school and I let my mind drift back to 1996.

Emotions ran high that summer before she left for college. I needed her most and she wanted me least. I wanted to hold on and knew I had to let go.  She was ready to conquer the world – her world now, not mine – a world I could no longer control. I had prepared us both for this time over the prior 18 years, so with equal amounts of pride, confidence, and trepidation, I stepped aside and she took the helm and navigated through the years that followed to become the woman, wife and mother she is today.

Instinctively, we want to hold on to the child in our children forever and keep them safe. And whether we send them off to college or to their first apartment, the time comes when we can’t protect them any longer, when we stand in the background and parent from a distance knowing we laid a solid track for them to follow, and we give them wings.

Just over three years ago I left Connecticut, my home for more than twenty years and my sweet condo just a mile south of Hole-In-The-Wall Beach in Niantic Bay, and moved to Florida’s Treasure Coast to retire. Well, let’s call it semi-retire. I was writing my first novel and with the support and encouragement of my loving partner, Mac, a fair retirement savings, and lots of chutzpah, I grabbed the brass ring.

Every day in Florida was another day in paradise. When I wasn’t writing, I was snorkeling, enjoying time with friends, resting on the beach, and being a tourist on the back of Mac’s Harley Davidson. One of my favorite sights, if you could call it a sight, was the Florida sky. It’s bigger than any I’ve ever seen – so vast, with a sun so bright, it heats the earth from the moment it rises until a blanket of stars takes over at night.

Nine months passed. With the editing complete, galley proofs approved, “T’s” crossed and “I’s” dotted, Perfect was perfect. I gave a final once-over and sent it to the printer. I planned book signings and scheduled meet-the-author events. There were women’s conferences, and radio interviews. I was living out my dream. I pinched myself repeatedly to be sure it was real. My “ouch” was all the proof I needed to reassure me this was as good as it gets.  Little did I know,  while I was soaking up life and living the dream, storms were brewing off the coast of paradise.

First, there was Tropical Depression Economy. It was stalled over Martin County for nearly a year producing low real estate values and high unemployment which contributed to Mac’s unsuccessful job search.  The highs and lows left heavy gray thunderclouds and increased atmospheric pressure.

Then the hurricanes came. There was John, a patriarch storm in New Jersey. With gale force winds for 81 years he weakened almost overnight. Drowning in himself, he held on to every ounce of power he could muster in his now fragile frame. John had barely begun to build strength in a Hackensack medical center when Hurricane Maddy, his companion storm for 60 years, spun over him and set down in a hospital nearly 10 miles away. I immediately left the tropical depression and headed straight into the eye of the storm.

The skies cleared slowly.  As they did, the economy brightened … for me … in New Jersey. I checked the extended forecast in both regions. The economic climate was better in New Jersey and both hurricanes had lost much of their strength. I put my writer/author dream on hold. I worked by day, played Scrabble and May-I by night (what else does one do with 80+ year old hurricanes?) and made monthly trips to Florida to be with Mac.

Then the Tsunami hit. The wave sucked me in and pulled me deep into the undertow. “I need to be alone,” was all he said. I spun, face down to the ocean floor and lay there dormant for months until I drifted ever so slowly to the surface. At the top, life came full circle. Both hurricanes stood strong on either side of me and I was surrounded by a rainbow of friends.

I spent today at Hole in the Wall working on my next novel, Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea… reaching for the brass ring.

Life can change as quickly as the weather, but if we never head into a storm, we may never see a rainbow.

• Reach for the brass ring.
• Treasure the people you love.
• Honor those who love you.
• Take care of yourself.
• When you’re down, look up.