Staying versus Leaving

We blog frequently about the compromises we make living on a boat. Whether it be doing without amenities like a freezer or hot water, or negotiating work versus play days, there always seems to be give and take in our live-aboard life. Making the decision to fly home for Christmas this year was one of the more difficult compromises we've made lately. Being apart has been more the norm than the exception these past couple of years, so opting to be apart when there was no real family emergency seemed a bit inconsiderate on my part. Yet, David encouraged me to go and spend the holidays with my sister.

I treasure the holiday season. David enjoys it, but it's not that important to him. “David, I'm going to decorate the boat for Christmas.” “Okay, honey, have at it.” If it gets decorated, wonderful. If it doesn't, no worries. I go for lots of lights and faux evergreen garlands, fresh flowers when we can find them, stuffed stockings and a  traditional roast turkey dinner with all the trimmings. David loves the food aspect, and cheerfully participates with my holiday-mania, but the rest is all fluff to him. We even negotiate how soon and how often I'll play Christmas music on the boat. He's reluctant to hear the same Christmas CDs (we only have two) much before December 1st. Me? I could start playing them in July without a problem.

In the past, we've celebrated Christmas in Florida, Ecuador, Chile, Tasmania, New Zealand, South Africa, and Australia … sometimes with a group and sometimes just the two of us. We always manage to make the the day cheery, but there's something about picking out a Christmas tree and decorating it, and all the other festivities that lead up to the holiday that put me in the spirit.

David and I talked about this at length before I made the plane reservations. I wanted him to come back with me. He preferred to stay and work on the boat rather than travel back to the States for a couple of weeks. He'll rack up some “cave time” and get lots of projects completed by the time I return.

What it all comes down to is compromise once again. Beyond doing things for the boat and maintaining our live-aboard, gypsy lifestyle, sometimes we need to do things for ourselves as individuals. So I'll be in Boston sister-ing over the holidays and David will be in Durban Nine-of-Cupping and come the New Year … we'll be ready to start living the good life once again … together.

Becky's Big Move

 

We've been living in Las Vegas for over a month now while David's mom, Becky, recuperated from a nasty kidney infection and went through physical rehab following her hospitalization. It's been a long row to hoe for Becky, but at 96, she's tough and resilient and has come through with flying colors. It's time to make the big move into her new digs. Today was the day.

There's been much angst about the move. It's a major life change for Becky and the whole family, but all agree it's a good move. We'd already moved her comfy recliner and other furniture into her studio-sized apartment. Her favorite pictures have been hung on the wall and her clothes have all been neatly hung in the closet or folded in the drawers. Everything was ready … the only thing missing was Becky.

We waited impatiently as the rehab facility filled out massive volumes of paperwork, dispensed her meds and got releases from everyone from the janitor to President Obama. Becky was ready early, of course … just after 7am actually. We called … we waited … we called … we waited. By 11am, we finally drove over to try to speed things along. Finally, the big A-OK. She'd not been beyond the threshold of her room for over a month. With a big fanfare, David pushed her in her wheelchair over the threshold. At last … free. She said her goodbyes and off we toddled.

The move was pretty easy. The Bridge is located next door to rehab, so we wheeled her the short distance up the hill in the 100F+ heat and into her elegant new home. Just being outside in the sunshine, after more than a month of incarceration, was enough to heighten her spirits. She might be apprehensive about a new place, but breaking out of rehab was definitely reason to celebrate.

The relief as she sat in her old recliner and the smile on her face confirmed we'd made the right choice.

You might wonder what this all has to do with living on a sailboat and sailing around the world. It really has everything to do with our lifestyle. It's part and parcel of the life we lead. Not everyday is sunny. Not all passages are calm. Family trumps a season of sailing. What was it John Lennon said? “Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans.”

Greats are Grand...and vice versa

Being an aunt is wonderful. Being a great-aunt … well, that's wonderful-er, but for some reason, it sounds much older than just aunt. I guess “great” is better than being called “old” auntie, but you can see my point. What brings this up is that while we've been visiting with David's mum and sister here in Las Vegas, Mary's daughter, Gentry (our niece and web mistress of JustALittleFurther.com fame) and her family decided to drive up from New Mexico. We chat and e-mail with Gentry frequently, but we don't see her and Eric and the kids often. I read that grand-niece and great-niece are interchangeable. Despite the connotation of old age, great sounded more eloquent than grand, so I opted for that. We certainly miss our great-nieces … and they are grand!

First, it was important they learned to pronounce “aunt” correctly. I'm from New England. Aunt is pronounced “ah-nt” not “ant” … a loving relative versus an insect. Both girls were both pretty good with that although Jada took this very seriously and practiced often. Next, it was key that they realized the importance and venerability of having a great aunt. (They're young and easily influenced by big words.) The way to express this was through much hugging. They were both very good at this and once again, practiced frequently.

We did lots of fun things while they were here. We had the opportunity to don yellow disposable gowns and disposable gloves to visit great-grandma, for instance. Quite the family activity.

We walked in Wetlands Park nearby and saw scads of desert cottontails, hummingbirds, coots and California quails. Jada's particularly good at reading maps and planned our itinerary well. Great-aunt Marcie and Macy needed more time studying to figure out where they were going. Thanks for this picture, Jada!

We visited the exhibits at the new Wetlands Park Nature Center (all free and outstanding) and were encouraged to observe, touch, play and generally run off some pent-up energy. All in all, an absolutely great time.

By the way, private message to Taylor, Cole, Dylan, CJ, Adrienne, Jacob, Kaileah and Danielle … grands are great, too!