FIRE AND WATER

I've been thinking about my Mom alot as Mothers Day approaches and that is understandable as I am old enough now to grasp some of the finer gifts she has bestowed upon me...the more subtle lessons of living that come from female bonding. I am blessed to have my Mom still alive and still showing me the lessons available in aging gracefully. So lucky. I have had the contrast close and present for 6 years as Stephen's Mom was not so lucky. But today I was caught off guard by some intense waves of feeling for my Dad. It all started right when I woke up and noticed that the big cleansing burn we had on Tuesday was still burning today...Friday. The wind was blowing up the hill and must have dried and fanned the underlying embers so that now...I could see the hot glowing coals. My initial job of the day was to put out the fire. James H. Ballou was a smoky in WW2 and served the country in England and France putting out airplane fires. It was perhaps his undoing as his death came at age 74 from asbestos related lung cancer. He's been gone since 1995. Funny how one small thing can bring home the loss of a loved one just as raw and sore as when it happened so many years ago. So I put out the bonfire with a hose...water does the trick.

Stephen and my two sons, Sam and Will are preparing for a Carribean adventure. They will be bringing up a 52 foot sloop from Antigua to Rhode Island with the Captain of Ghostboat, Rick Rosenberg. I believe it will be an epic adventure and a rare bonding opportunity for 2 adult sons and their father. The starting point of the journey is from Antigua.

My Dad was in love with the island of Antigua. He was also a huge fan of sailing and the sea. He left home at 17 to be a merchant marine and sailed the coast of South America leaving some cool journals for us to read. His passion for sailing lasted his lifetime and he spent his last years getting out on the ocean as a member of the Eastern Yacht Cub race committee. In fact his last request was to sprinkle his ashes on the sea but to be sure to throw some into the engine room of the Race Committee boat. Both wishes were carried out with love. Dad had a thing for Antigua that was almost like the ardor one has for a lover. He became a frequent visitor and even did some kind of architecture work at Shirley Heights just up from English Harbor where his friends Dez and Lisa Nichols were managers or owners of the Admirals Inn. He dreamed of one day having enough money to take the whole family on vacation there. Thats 4 out of 5 daughters, my mother and at the time...all the sons in law. He lived to know 4 out of 5 of his grandsons...missing out only on his namesake James who was born a few months after his passing; and his only granddaughter. Dad was a small business owner of a Salem Archetectural firm and he struggled during bad economic years though over all he made a good living and put all his girls through the best education he could afford. He had big dreams. In some ways he was more suited to being an artist...he loved painting and always imagined the time he's spend painting watercolors and oils. He travelled the routes of the French Impressionists and adored Earnest Hemmingway. I think the daily grind of a large family and a 6 1/2 day work week created disappointment and frustration for him as did having girls. He openly wished he'd had sons and that was a mistake as it left all his 5 daughters thinking of themselves as a dissappointment. So many of his dreams never manifested. Anyway...Stephen was meant to take the boat up from Antigua with Rick last year. Because he was due to go on that journey, he went to the doctor for some vague symptoms to get a clear bill of health before going to sea. Hours later he was in an ambulance on the way to Boston for a quadruple bypass. Luckily he was not to become a ghost on Ghostboat and he remains grateful that the trip was planned and gave him the impetus to get checked. He was also scheduled to take the boat back down to Antigua in November but because of a surgical glitch was not able to take the trip. Sam went and did 22 days at sea returning with some big dreams of his own.

Stephen missed Will's graduation from college because of his heart crisis. So last May he had unexpected surgery and a very long recovery that culminated in his Mothers passing on the first day of spring. It was a blessing and a release as her quality of life was consumed by dementia. It has been a year of cleansing fire and clearing debris and postponed plans. This morning as I put out the spray of water to quench the fire, I felt my Dad as if he was present.

In a few days we will all fly down to Antigua and celebrate Will's graduation with a long awaited family vacation. Am I doing this for Dad? Am I doing my own dream? Does it even matter? For 7 days we will have a family vacation in Antigua and I will fly home while the men deliver a boat. I wonder what I'll deliver? I feel like my hull is barnicle free and my sails are set and awaiting the wind. I sense my fathers breath and feel him smiling...he's so looking forward to some bawdy laughter and tropical trees. I put out the fire by turning on the water, dreams from my father become his daughters...Island love and sailing streams of video and music ...there is a wonderous alchemy at work. No I'll never be his son. No..I won't be one of the men delivering the Ghostboat. But that doen't mean I can't have my own journey of adventure with the trade winds in my sails...I'm just not sure yet how it will all come to be.