Jim and I took my sister, Laurie, sailing on our 38 ft Morgan back when Jim and I were just newlyweds. She was so excited to share in the pastime that was enveloping her little sister. There were white caps on Lake Michigan and it was a rather breezy day, but I was just as excited to share sailing with one of my siblings. It didn’t go well. Out of all the people we have introduced to sailing, Laurie was probably the sickest I have ever seen anyone get. She was literally green. It took her three days to recover from an hour excursion on the Lake. I felt terrible for putting her through that. I don’t think she held it against me, but she never volunteered to head out on any of our boats again. She made the trip to Holland, Michigan from her home in Grand Rapids when we sailed across Lake Michigan the first time with s/v Somewhere. She brought us ice cream and sat on board our new vessel as long as we didn’t cast our lines from the secure pier at Eldeen’s Shipyard. Laurie was already getting weak from the disease that took her life when she made that trip. I couldn’t understand it. We all held out for a proper diagnosis and a cure.
I can’t put into words the sadness I feel at the loss of my sister. I haven’t updated my blog in several days because I can’t find the words. I flew home last week to spend some time with my family and honor Laurie at her memorial. Laurie was the fifth in line of my large eight children family. I can’t put down the words right now in any articulate manner of the extreme loss we all are feeling. We lost our beautiful sister, friend, mother, grandmother, daughter. She was beautiful inside and out, witty and intelligent and most especially my friend. I’ll miss her greatly.
I have returned now to Virgin Gorda to a boat with a couple of issues that have kept us on anchor. There’s a perplexing slow water seepage that has us tearing up floor boards and experimenting with different scenarios. It’s driving Jim crazy. The cats keep trying to help by snooping into the now open areas of the bilges that seem to be so interesting to felines. It’s a pain. I’m trying to prepare the boat for our friends that are meeting us in St. Martin, but with a torn up boat it’s difficult to maneuver around let alone clean and store items.
We’re here with friends, though, onboard s/v Endorphin and we’ve been enjoying leisurely swims off the stern and watching what I call “The Goat Show” on the shore. There are several wild goats that wander Prickley Pear Island and their bleats at each other as they climb trees, fall out of trees, and butt each other are rather entertaining. An occasional flamingo will land on the beach as well and add a bright pink splash of color to the white, sandy beach. I’m ready to set sail though, and leave the goats behind. A good sail and a new view will be good for the soul. The hole in my heart will never heal, but as a very wise and good friend of mine said, “Enjoy life, live everyday to it's fullest, that's the best we can do for those who have gone before us... Feel their spirit....”