Post Script: home

Foreword:  Just a few days before we left the boat, I fell and bruised the heck out of my left leg!  Made it more complicated getting home, and harder opening up the cabin.  I'm still using crutches, but I’m improving each day, and thankful for that!

Post Script 1:

getting home

flying over the Sandia peaks

into Albuquerque’s Sun Port

our excitement at seeing the mountains

was uncontainable!

it had been a 14-hour travel day

and between my hobbling on an injured leg

and Dave doing all the carting and lifting

we were both exhausted

but ecstatic to be almost home!

unfortunately my head objected

to its involuntary vertical relocation

from sea level up to 7,000 feet

and by the next morning was pounding.

the drive up the last 1,600 feet

to our cabin in the mountains

didn’t help, of course,

but we were home

and that was what mattered!

a week and a hundred glasses of water later –

plus chunks of 4 days in bed under the covers,

several drugs and doctors and tests,

and a day back down at 7,000 feet –

the migraine is finally gone

and I am acclimated once again

to my mountain home (praise God)!

I woke this morning

to watch the sun creep across the meadow

and felt a deep gladness fill my heart.

between my leg and my head

the settling in was frustratingly slow.

Dave had all the heavy lifting jobs

so I got the sit-down ones with my feet up:

the mail from 7 months

filled a huge yellow rubber bin,

and that was after all the junk mail

and most of the magazines had been pitched!

much sorting and tossing later

all that’s left is 3 small stacks.

meanwhile the bags are unpacked

the laundry’s done

the house is clean

there are groceries in the kitchen

the phone is turned on

the hot tub is filled

there’s wood for a fire

and it feels like we are HOME!

Post Script 2:

coming home

it was an amazing adventure!

7 months was long

but it allowed us to really learn

what we needed to learn --

next time we’ll stay for half that.

the differences are huge

between living on land and living on the water

between sea level and 8,600 feet

between balmy humidity and cool mountain air.

we’re not cold-weather people

so we loved the warm climate

and the ways it allowed us to dress, eat, and live outdoors.

but we are mountain-people

dry-air southwesterners

with deep roots in this land and place.

the lure of the azure waters has been lifelong

but water is a precarious home for human beings

fraught with surprises both delightful and fearful.

I am proud of myself

for conquering so many of my fears

of water and wind power --

enough to find real joy in the sailing we did,

enough that I will miss the breezes and the rocking

as well as the beaches and blue waters.

I am proud of Dave

for learning so many boat systems,

both their operation and their maintenance,

and for embracing more compromise, more caution

and a talking-it-through-first approach to sailing.

I am proud of the sailing team we became together

me at the helm while Dave raised sails,

Dave at the helm while I dropped anchor or grabbed a ball,

sitting side by side on the helmseat

anytime we were under way --

whether the winds were stiff

and all our attention was needed,

or the seas were calm

and we could just enjoy the scenery.

my injury at the end was unsettling --

not least of all because we

weren’t doing anything stupid

or that we hadn’t done 100 times before --

and it gives us both pause:

are we content for this one adventure?

or is cruising a life we want to sustain for longer?

the contrasts are sharp

between the water and the mountains,

but for us there is no mistaking where home is

and we are enormously glad to be here.

at the same time

I know I am deeply grateful

for these months on the water

trying out a whole new life --

daily learning at least 6 new things,

living simple, out-of-doors and close to nature,

becoming a part of the islands

and letting the islands become a part of us.

thursday 2 june

ordinary time 2016

Crooked Creek, Taos, NM