As June fades into the recent past we feel ourselves fading too.
Our magical water journey seems like a dream.
We watch the posts of friends who’ve moved on, we see their marvelous photos in Norfolk, Chesapeake Bay, New York Harbor, and now Canada and we sink lower and lower into the mist. We review and relive those many months on the Loop and it feels more like a dream…not the dream four years in the making, but a fantasy.
We have missed so much and missed doing it with new friends with the same dream; all the fun, all the adventure, all the excitement of each new day.
Days here are mundane and boring and sad. Don keeps busy during the day, and I just wander about. I miss my yard and garden, I miss my house and my dishes and my walk-in shower and my gas range and my huge living room and my family room with a BIG TV and doggie door for Inky’s convenience. I miss my neighborhood, my friends and church family. I miss my old routine now that my water routine has vanished.
We’re adrift: floating without being moored or steered; without purpose or guidance; lost and confused.
I cry and stomp my feet and sweat and swear. Don moves about silent and courageous; never accusatory.
Our monthly short-term rent is $1,550!! We haven’t had a mortgage in 10 years! It’s hard to accept.
I made our home like my grandmother made hers: a warm place where family and friends were always welcome; clean and comfortable and warm. Funny, isn’t it? I’m the only one NOT welcome there.