Fish out of water

I haven't done much surfing since my mom got sick.
Since 1997, I was surfing every weekend with my boyfriend, John.
We'd get off work on Friday and drive directly to the surf spot, where we would stay until late Sunday afternoon before heading back to town.
We spent the entire day near the water. When when we weren't riding waves, we were watching them; or talking with friends, napping in the Volkswagon vans, or making tea on the propane stove. But, when mom got sick, surfing began to close out. So did my relationship.
My parents were living at the beach when mom first started having difficulty.
So, as John and I raced to the beach each weekend to forget about work and responsibilities, I began to feel guilty for not being with my folks. I thought it hurt them to know I was somewhere at the beach, but not with them. After awhile, I couldn't justify my joy anymore. So, John went his way, and I went mine.

Now, I paint pictures of the ocean, and think a lot about surfing.
I don't know if I will get another chance to live that life again. But, I'm hoping I will.