A few days ago I posted a blog about my new lifestyle as an unwed mate. Having no legal ties, I can't rightfully call myself a housewife. The role I have chosen brings me happiness as I relish the time enjoying the day's parade of wonders with someone who I am intimate with. The coincidence is that just a few minutes earlier I was logging on to a new website whereby they ask folks to describe their favorite anchorages. The concept intrigued me, though navigating the password situation has left me a bit dismayed, their profile questionnaire brought out a psychic vibe.
One of the items in the questionnaire asks to describe one's most challenging sailing experience. That was easy for me. Amongst the decisions to choose was which bought to buy, whether to make offshore passages alone, and sending my husband off to heaven. Each of those just sort of came about. Though Danny's death still plagues me at least once a day, truly the most challenging decision I have made in my 40+ sailing years of sailing was the one I made last April.
It was another lonely night. Lying in my bunk amidst a flock of e-mail correspondence, the pain of loneliness was dragging me down. Leaving the crew quarters each morning was like climbing out of a top bunk bed with weights on my shoulders. Making morning coffee, brushing my teeth, and tidying up the cockpit took the energy usually reserved for a two mile jog. My heart ached. Danny was gone. I could accept that.
What I could not understand was why a relationship with a guy I met a year after Danny left this earth, turned out to be such a failure. As much as I wanted to sail further south, it was like a magnet held me at dock at the Caicos Marina. Internet access kept me connected with my loved ones. Loneliness made me realize why some folks resort to horrible lifestyles. I know I had to move on and I know I would have. Suddenly, as unexpected as a volcanic eruption in southern Florida, I got an interesting phone call.
Let's just say it was from an acquaintance. After the typical hi, how are you? jibber jabbering she asked if I had heard from the culprit. You know the guy who had just broken my heart. The one I couldn't understand why he didn't think we'd make a great couple. I told her no. She pursued, "Would you want to talk to him?" This aroused my suspicion that this gal was at the house of another gal who I was friendly with. I also wonder to this day if the heart breaker wasn't sitting in the very room while this phone call was taking place. Politely, with as much resolve of calmness I could muster, I said, "Of course I would talk to him."
Hmmmm, the next morning I received an endearing text message asking forgiveness. The rest is history while it also confirms one of the most difficult decisions of my life: Giving up my years of planning to sail solo in order to board s/v Coupleship until we die....
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