For as far as I can see there is only water. It is a deep blue sprinkled
with white. The sky is powdered blue also littered with white and purple
clouds. The sun hangs low on the horizon, climbing its way to its majesty. It
is warm and I wear little, sipping coffee and watching. There is no sign of
land in any direction.
The boat has a gentle sway as though it dances to a rhythm that
only it knows. I love the gentle rolling motion. Even in rough waters I have
sea legs. Once I went “bow riding” in a high speed boat, slamming into waves,
as I held onto a rope looking like a cowboy roping the ocean, dripping with
salt spray and listening to my friends say, “Mike’s crazy!”
May be I am.
I’ve certainly never been a strong advocate of conventionality. I think
we’re all finding our way in life and there are lots of different paths. There
is no one, right way. We do the best we can, either finding our rewards … a happy
and satisfying existence … or we don’t. I leave whatever happens next to God.
Last night, Sarah and I played a new game! How many people can you fit in a hot tub? We didn’t mean to play it
but like life, sometimes things just happen. It had rained and there was a
chill in the air, so we climbed in the bubbling water and settled in beside an
elderly gentleman from Florida.
Within minutes, others followed our cue. In half-an-hour, we
learned the answer. Twenty-three!
(The reason for the odd number was an old Jewish guy from New York
City wearing beads and a Cowboy hat determined to tell everyone that he knew
Janice Ian who sang “At 17” a thousand
years ago. We gave him his own space in the pool so the rest of us were a bit
crowded.)
Before the ship left Port, we had new friends. Staying in the pool
until eight o’clock, we dressed and got ready for dinner. Sarah was stunning
and I wasn’t the only one who thought as much. A man named Frank did too and he
went out of his way to let her know it!
Afterwards, we meandered around, took in a show before stumbling
to our cabin and falling in bed. She’s still asleep in the bottom of the boat
while I sit high sipping coffee, far away from the cares of the world.
“You’re going again?” my Mom admonished when I told her we were
setting sail. “You just got back!”
I had a most difficult time fingering out what her point.
“I don’t know Mom,” I tried to explain “it just time to go. Sarah
and I have missed out on so much so we’re making up. It just seems like the
things to do.”
“You Father used to do that!” she fired back. “He’d come home and
tell me where we were going.”
“Aren’t those precious memories Mom?”
“Well,” she faltered, “they are now but they weren’t then. We
couldn’t afford it.”
I laughed. “Well, I’m glad I got that from Dad then.”
Mom softened. “You and Sarah have a good time,” she said.
And we are.
There’s only so much life left and we have so much to do!
We’ll worry about everything else later.
