Yesterday we were extended the most amazing invitation: come sail to the Bras d'Or lakes. On a big beautiful boat. On a sunny Sunday. Where you will learn almost everything you need to know about sailing from one of the kindest older gentlemen you have ever met.
P.S. The trip will take all day - like ten hours all day or the longest (by seven hours) that you've ever been away from your baby.
Of course I thought no. No thanks. You all go. Yes, she's one. Yes, we're not going over night. Yes, she's going to be in the most loving and doting hands. Yes, someday soon work and daycare will mean more apartness. But what if she needs me ... or what if she doesn't?
Of course I thought no. No thanks. You all go. Yes, she's one. Yes, we're not going over night. Yes, she's going to be in the most loving and doting hands. Yes, someday soon work and daycare will mean more apartness. But what if she needs me ... or what if she doesn't?
Rob talked me down from my good-god-she's-going-to-be-eighteen-if-I-blink-once-more ledge and we are going. And Frank is staying, because babies and boats and novice sailors never mix. I'm still nervous. Because letting go, even if only a little bit and only for a day, is hard. But I'm excited too. I suspect the day is going to be a beautiful one and that we'll return even more in love with the idea of life at sea. I also suspect that this time with just adults is going to be one of those things that I never knew I needed, but really really did.
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