Wednesday, February 19, 2014



Took a walk with Rick and Harry yesterday, crisp and windy out.  Rick took these pictures of your boat, the boat that was your dad's first...and remembered the day you decided it was time to steal it back...details to be left out here--after he died and it was left in these same woods...only it was in such disrepair...

You decided to steal it and enlisted the help of Christopher, his dad and me...and we did it...and the story got bigger as you found out you didn't have the title and had to make it honest by going to Beverly and admitting this whole deal.  We ended up buying that boat and then began the journey of moving it here and there till you and Chris would be able to begin to fix it up.

Well, you didn't live to do that...and the boat began another journey with Chris moving it again and again...till he decided to give it to Dillon...the dear son of the man your dad bought it from ( our dear neighbors who had bought our house from us when we split up)...and found out that story now tells us...Dillon was probably conceived on this boat...and then Dillon's dad died at 50, so then this boat now became his..and he started to fix it up-even sailed it a couple years ago...but life is now busy for him...and because he lives next door...it is now back in the same place we "stole" it from...

So, I look at it all the time and just ponder...is there something in this whole scenerio to gleen...hmmmm

Just makes me laugh a bit...a silly boat...loved by different ones..but no real deep truth finds me...

and I don't want to fix it or sail it...too big, too much money...

but, it brings me deep tenderness still, remembering you at 20, when your dad died and wanting this boat cuz it brought you close to your dear dad.  And he and you are both gone...and the boat remains...

And I ponder.  So much in the past to bring dear memories for all of this, of you, even of your dad.

life goes on.  No big revelations here.  No lesson to really glean from it.  Just trying to be present. Rick listens so well to these stories and somehow becomes closer to you--and loves you as a dad...

Wish I could have seen you get it fixed up and sailed it with you.  You had so many dreams that just stopped immediately.  Somedays, that just makes me plain sad.

I miss you Sarah.  I miss your fullness, your vest for life.  I live with a hope in the heaven and let that hope spill into today...

2 comments:

Karen Gerstenberger said...

What a story that boat has, without even touching the water! Thank you for sharing it with us here. I love to read anything, everything about your Sarah. Sending a big hug to you tonight.

Karen said...

I love your observation that the boat is still here, but Sarah and her dad are gone. Strange how life works. Yet they are eternal, and the boat will someday burn away with everything else in this peculiar world of stuff. And we will live on and on for one adventure after another in a place with no more tears. A boat is full of memories, and at the same time a reminder of future seas that we will sail. Love to you and comfort for the loss of that precious girl and the times you had together.