An enthusiast’s view of America’s Original Seaside Resort… by Meghan Kunz
I’ve often found it interesting to uncover which life experiences influence writers. Sometimes a trip to the store will spark a topic of interest, which may lead to a compelling human interest story. Other times it may be a more significant event that causes the writer to reflect inward and delve past the idiosyncrasies of everyday monotony. Then there are instances when these two moments collide: during our daily lives we may discover greater meaning — an epiphany of sorts. And sometimes that happens right here in Cape May.
Truth be told, I don’t have a good track record when it comes to vacations. Tragedy often precedes my getaways: a relative falls ill, a pet falls ill, someone takes a mean stumble and is now hobbling around in a cast, a tree falls on our house… you name it, it has happened. So I’ve become accustomed to bracing myself for any and all possibilities. Still, I was taken by surprise last Friday morning.
Breakfast at the Mad Batter, a beautifully sunny, crisp autumn morning, great conversation with my parents: I receive a text message from my co-worker. It takes me a moment to figure out what day it is (because when you’re away from home, even for one night, time seems suspended). My co-worker delivers dreaded news — my boss passed away the night before. This was unexpected. Though he had recently been ill, both the illness and diagnosis were fairly new, and everyone felt hopeful. But now the morning took a different turn.
The day which started out feeling full of promise now felt unreal. That’s the only way to describe it. If we drove out of Cape May and back home, would something change? Did this really happen? The thoughts that entered my mind: he never had a chance to enjoy his retirement, to travel, purchase a vacation home, or walk his daughter down the aisle. Just like that — he would never see this beautiful Friday morning.
But I’m still here. And what my boss taught me once he was gone is just as important as what I learned from him over the past nine years. Quite simply: enjoy the moment. Breathe in the morning, take chances, and embrace the fear of embarking on new adventures. Start something new today — a book, a restaurant, a class. You always wanted to run a bed and breakfast? Find out how — do your homework, delve into the research — don’t give up because you think it can never happen.
This loss reminded me of what I need to be grateful for this Thanksgiving — the opportunities that every new morning brings. Have a Happy Thanksgiving!