There I said it. Actually I have said it many times during our courtship. What started as the fulfillment of a nearly lifelong dream and ended with the thrill of a romantic encounter haunts me each and every day. It is all good stuff. With the acceptance of life as a bitter suite adventure, how can anything we encounter be but an experience of wonderment.
Let me start with a definition of bitter suite as opposed to bittersweet. To be bittersweet I believe we encounter the same event at the same time. For example, morning the death of my beloved Danny while reveling in my purchase of SPRAY was bittersweet. Sailing without having Danny to call on was the most bitter of tastes ever to pierce my lips. The suite was my new home, the home that is still mine; that home is SPRAY. And, Danny, is still my beloved.
It seems philosophical thinking that has crept into my being as it never has before. Why hasn’t SPRAY sold yet? Many say it is a matter of fate. Sooner or later that rightful owner will show up. In the meantime I meet dynamic people. Take Lew for instance. Lew and I both have the gift for gab. He lives in Oklahoma or Kansas. It is one of those states not known for sailing. Yet he has raced on a friend’s F27 and is fascinated by the thought of owning a tri bigger and more accommodating than his Dick Newick designed Tremolina. If the truth were known, I would consider a swap. There just isn’t room for a sailboat on coupleship.
More importantly, is that talking with Lew ignites the fire I once had. Living each day with the passion of watching a dream come alive presents a spectacular display of enthusiasm. Lew is getting ready to sell his house, is contemplating whether or not to sell its contents or pay for storage, and is a babble of verbage. Like the hyperactive dog that chases every squirrel he sees, Lew can hardly keep his thoughts focused on the list of questions he has about SPRAY. Again it is such a sweet memory of sparks that once flew within me.
Then, there is Herb, a seemingly more calm kind of guy than Lew. Herb knows he wants a Marples. He fears he should have bought one a few months ago. Since that boat sold all he can do is hope SPRAY lives up to his dream. He is leaving his house at 3 am for the six hour drive to see us. Us, of course, is me and SPRAY.
Months ago there was an American who is living in Sweden. He flew to the states to give SPRAY a look. A sailboard friend, Tinho made the 5 hour drive to swampland. Although I was betting his wife still is not a sailor, I thought it might be nice if we could make the deal. Another guy and lady came for an inspection. This couple found no fault with the price or the boat. With bitter regret, though, an injury to the guy’s neck prevented even the slightest downturn of his head. It was painful to watch him get frustrated each time his eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas. Then, instantly he grabbed his head reacting to the pain.
Each of these people adds to the legacy of my John Marples designed, Steve Neal built, boyfriend maintained boat. Yea, I love my mobile home. Yea, I am living in my boyfriend’s house. And, yea, I am happy onboard coupleship. BUT, SPRAY, wow, she’s my love,,,