Once upon a time, the husband (before he was the husband) asked me to spend a week with him in Hawaii. Kauai, to be specific, known as the garden island. Many famous movies have been filmed there. The scenery is spectacular. We lugged his view camera all over the island and many gorgeous photographs resulted.
We saw the rugged Na Pali coastline. We saw Waimea canyon, looking like it was carved out of God’s own pastel box. We saw red dirt and the greenest greens, flowers everywhere, including orchids of incredible variety. We heard the music of the surf at night from our beachside home away from home, ate unbelievable food, and agreed hourly that this was paradise.
Our beachside home came with a guestbook, and one day we leafed through it to see who else had stayed there. Two stood out. One, a mother and teen son who’d come so he could snorkel Poi’pu. He sounded like a riot, a great kid who knew how lucky he was, and I wished we could’ve met them. His entry made fun of another guest who stood out…The Ant Lady.
The Ant Lady had stayed there while getting married. Her entry was a litany of complaints. Everything was wrong. The island hospitality was substandard. She hated the place on the beach because at night, she saw…ants on the lanai. Oh horrors. Ants. Outside. In the tropics.
I don’t know if that marriage lasted. I doubt it. If it did last, that is one unhappy husband, because there is no pleasing somebody who was fortunate enough to spend a week in paradise and spent it complaining.
The Ant Lady stands out in my mind as the embodiment of the takeaway. All of us decide what to take away from an experience. We took countless memories of sun and surf and stark raving beauty, and it lives on in large framed prints all over our house, plus two original watercolors by a local artist. The kid took his memories of a great time with his mom at the beach, maybe one of the last vacations they had before he went off to college, who knows? And the bride took away, not memories of her fabulous Hawaiian wedding in one of the most beautiful places on earth, but ants on the lanai.
We don’t always get to choose our circumstances or experiences, but we can choose what we take away. That ant lady, no matter how much she had in her bank account, is one poor human being, impoverished where it matters. Life can enrich us by the hour if we let it. I don’t want to waste my life dwelling on the ants on the lanai and missing the sunset hung across the horizon in streaks of crimson and pink and gold.
I tagged you (Don’t worry, it’s fun). 🙂
Eek! Tagged! I will go view the damage. *g*
The Ant Lady – what a great code term for Miserable Killjoy. I’m sure there’s nothing in the world that could please her. Meanwhile, your trip there sounds like such a beautiful memory.
Julia, it was beautiful, and I’m so glad we have the pictures! I’m afraid the ant lady might as well have stayed home.
What a great story very inspirational. Sometimes we get so busy in life we forget to stop, breathe and enjoy the moments we have. I learned that lesson this weekend when my apartment flooded. We could have looked at it in a negative way but we made some fun from it and hey it helped us clean out a lot of junk we had 😉
Great entry, Charli! There’s always a few like that in any bunch. It’s pretty sad that it was her wedding/honeymoon.
I think you got there before I’d finished posting it (Oops). It’s up now. 🙂
Sarai, sorry about your flood! It can be good to have an excuse to get rid of junk, though. Sometimes it’s way too easy to hang onto things long past their usefulness. You would not believe how much we tossed before, during, and after the move!
Jordan, yeah, makes you wonder why she wasn’t too busy to complain. *g* Guess she didn’t have any erotic romances in her suitcase!
Ann, I’ll check back. And do the meme tomorrow. (Yay, blog fodder for another day!)