As mentioned in my last post, my dad's boat, the Rhonda B., waited ten long years to be seaworthy again. Being left outside during those cold New England winters, it fell into disrepair, and there never seemed to be a "right" time to fix it. Often there were choices. Do we fix the hull on the boat, or do we pay for my husband's brakes, tires, radiator hoses, etc.? Do we pay to fix the boat, or do we use the money to open the pool? At one time, I even received an offer on the boat. "I can take it off your hands," a contractor we knew told me. "Will you take $1,000 for it?"
As tempting as selling the boat was, especially during hard financial times when my husband was seeking inpatient treatment and not working, I held onto it. I held onto the dream that one day my husband would be well and our lives would be easier. I held onto the dream that the Rhonda B. would get repaired. I held onto the dream that one day Little Lewie would be able to ride his grandfather's boat, and he would love it the same way I did so long ago. This dream, these dreams, stayed close to my heart, and I never let them go...
Then, something miraculous happened. On October 10, 2018, the Rhonda B., after a long ten years, was launched out onto the water again. After skipping work and after-school commitments, the three of us "set sail" for a beautiful sunset cruise. The weather, in the 70's, was mild, and the lake (seeing that it was the middle of the week) was calm and peaceful. Immediately, all five of my senses came rushing back to me--the smell of the boat; the sound of the motor; the view of the water, trees, and houses; the feel of the warm breeze brushing my cheeks and the gentle rocking of the boat. I teared up as for that 40 minute trip, I experienced pure, unadulterated joy. It was heaven on earth. It was proof that hope, faith, and prayer are real. It was proof that dreams are real.
Just as expected, Lewie LOVED the boat. Not only was he disappointed to see the trip end, but he said, "Daddy, the next time we go on the boat, I want to learn how to drive it."
If life happened according to my plans, Lewie would have been on the boat since he was a baby. However, as much as I romanticize this, I realize that the boat wouldn't have the same kind of meaning or impact that it has today. Lewie
loved the boat. Why? Because his very first trip occurred when he was old enough to appreciate it. Because he saw the boat sit in our driveway for all these years, and now he personally has a connection to it that, at age ten, he
will remember.
Life doesn't always follow a linear trajectory; there aren't always calm seas. We've survived some storms. Some waves have pushed us back to the start, and then others have left us meandering with no direction at all. Then we were adrift for a while, waiting to see where the wind might take us next. Prayer and hope helped us navigate through it.
Now, in 2018, I think we found the shore. If so, we'll set sail again next year, and this time, we'll have a lot more confidence.