I am selling my boat

I am selling my boat. My days of pulling a tube with screaming kids are behind me. Kids fighting for a turn, begging me to go faster are long gone. Lazy Saturdays in the middle of the lake under a scorching July sun are faded memories. Lukewarm beer, sunburned noses, drives home with sleeping passengers, exhausted from a long day in the heat ……history.

I am selling my boat, the price is cheap, but the memories are priceless. The day I got marooned on a shoal at low tide. We were in the middle of the ocean, not really, we just felt like Gilligan. We picked-up a bucket full of sand dollars and made Christmas ornaments for everyone we knew. That old boat got us there. When the water returned we floated away, safe, hungry, but no worse for the wear.

Discovering an old burger and beer dive deep in a cove one Saturday afternoon. The clientele was a little rough and the language was even saltier but the burgers were cheap and the beer was ice-cold. This became “our place” and the girls showed their friends how to navigate the local flavor, staking their claim at the same picnic table with a view. When the water was low, we hiked through the mud for greasy burgers. And then one day it was gone. Closed down by the health inspector, but the stories live on.

I am selling my boat. She has been a reliable craft. Never stranding us, with a quick start and a belch of blue smoke. Taking us safely through pop-up storms as we sought shelter under interstate bridges. The waiting seemed like hours, black clouds, wind, thunder and lightning reminding everyone how small we were in this big world.

A new family is buying her. They will build new memories and share new experiences. They will explore the same waters, find the same sandy beaches and anchor in the same quiet coves as we did. I am selling my boat. I will miss her but I thank her for the memories we built, for the memories we shared.


About ends and beginnings blog

I am a frustrated writer and poet waiting to be discovered. A stand-up philosopher performing on a street corner near you. A Christian with questions but I don’t want to hear your answers. A Buddhist with a bumper sticker on my truck to prove it. A collector of quotes. A grower of lettuce. The Patron Saint of earthworms who name their children after me. A cyclist whose big ass strains the seams of his Lycra bibs. I am American by birth, Southern by the grace of God. My goal in life is to leave an imprint on the lives of the people I love not a footprint on the earth. I am a son, a husband, a father composed of 65%-Oxygen, 18%-Carbon, 10%-Hydrogen, 3%-Nitrogen, 3%-Diet Coke and 1%-Oreo.
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3 Responses to I am selling my boat

  1. Bexy Kinda says:

    I think you will always own those boat memories, but I wonder what will be the new adventures? The here and the now beckons us to do or not do, to chill or run with the wildest.

    Liked by 1 person

    • My new adventures are on a bicycle, hot days, cold days, hard days, easy days, days of wonderful eats and drinks after a long ride. Then soon, I hope, adventures of grandchildren. My hopes and wishes are few. Rarely do they include me, but the one that does include me is to live long enough to hold a grandchild, and kiss that baby on the forehead and know that I will still be here a little longer beyond my own children. Thanks for reading.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. …beautiful memories…you were blessed to have built them…thank you for sharing

    Liked by 1 person

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