My Hero

My Dad has always been my hero.  At the age of 6, my sister Emma and I stumbled upon two seagulls wrapped in fishing line on a remote beach in the Hauraki Gulf.  One bird had unfortunately died from the encounter, and the other still clung to life unable to move from the tightly wound line and a fishing hook through its beak.  In tears, my sister and I led Dad to the poor bird and watched him slowly and carefully free it.  As we watched the seagull sitting on a rock recovering, and eventually fly away, Dad became a hero to both my sister and I. 

While my Dad will always be my hero, Gary’s actions today got him pretty close to hero status.

After breakfasting at “de Big Fish” and watching the F1 Grand Prix, we began the trek over the hill to Secret Harbour Marina for the cruisers jumble sale.  We took a wrong turn and turned the 20 minute walk into 40.  The hot 11am sun beat down on us unrelenting, reflecting off the black tar seal road with no mercy.  Sweat beading off our foreheads and running down our cheeks like tears, we made it to Secret Harbour.  We begin to recover after a cool drink and look around the jumble sale, then began our journey back.  I had only made it two steps onto the road when my jandal broke.  Not just the “poke it back through the hole” broke, but the completely unrepairable broke.  In horror, I stared down at my feet, my eyes widening as I see the blurring heat wave rising off the road and I realise the consequences for my poor foot.  My eyes dart to either side of the road looking for a grass curb, but none appeared. 

Without hesitation, my husband and hero takes off his left jandal and hands it to me.  “But you can’t!” I protest, as if he had given me the last grain of food on a life boat, knowing that this unselfish move will mean certain pain and possibly third degree burns.  He ignores my protest and gasping, striding off down the road into the heat blurred distance.  With a new respect, I put on his jandal and hurry after him.  For 20 minutes I am in awed silence as we walk back.  When we arrive at the dinghy dock, Gary calmly puts his unshod foot into the water. The hiss and sizzle of his hot foot into the cool water is almost audible, but the relief obvious.

Lets just say, Gary will be waited on hand and foot tonight!