When Chip and I met, the kids were only 8 years old, and the happy years of raising them stretched out far into the future, almost as far as the mind could comprehend. But the day we bought Isabella was the first crystallized moment when it was about just the two us, about building another life beyond school lunches, band concerts, soccer and visitation schedules.
The day we brought Isabella home, the kids were sixteen and so wrapped up in their own teenaged world, that they hadn't paid much attention to our cruising plans. But that day Casey took one look at the new boat, eyes wide, and said, "You're really going to do this, aren't you?"
It's what we were thinking as well, our first major step toward the water, and every step after became more focused and purposeful. Isabella, we believed, would be our next home, and all our time on her was taking us closer to realizing a dream.
It was a sad moment when we decided last year that she would not be our cruising boat. The decision was about needing a bigger boat and not at all about our feelings for her.
People frequently ask us if we were sad to leave the house or if we'll be sad when we sell the store. The answer is always a resounding no. But will we be sad when we sell Isabella? She is our only "belonging" that holds our emotional investment. She was, after all, our first mental ticket to board a dream.
We know all her strengths and weaknesses, and she taught us so much about our own.
The day we wave goodbye to her is one I can hardly bear to imagine. She will surely sail away with a new owner on water mingled with my tears, tears of sadness that she sails without us, tears of hope that she will always sail on fair winds and kind seas.
UPDATE:
--Weather permitting, we are taking Isabella to Wanchese tomorrow for new bottom paint. If it's blowing too much, we'll take her on Tuesday.
--We continue to be deafened by the noise about the wine shop, but no real news to report.
No comments:
Post a Comment