the power of love

This weekend I was lucky enough to hitch a ride on a two-day learn-to-sail cruise to Catalina.

The students were being taught hands-on sailing skills, so I was truly ‘deck fluff’ with absolutely nothing to do. Even before we left the dock Friday morning, I made a little nest in the forepeak and tucked away. In and out of slumber I could feel the boat start to heel as they set the sails ... the chop of the waves as the wind picked up ... and the boat settle down again when we entered the lee of the island. I deliciously lazed and lolled in the v-berth, listening to the water rush past the hull, and did absolutely positively nothing.

That evening, with the students ashore, another friend rowed up with a dinghy full of groceries: bread, salad greens, wine and bugs: Pacific lobsters. While the fat lobster tails steamed in beer and bread warmed in the oven, we made garlicky butter to dunk it all in. Fantastic. We reminisced about past trips and fancied new adventures. It is good to have friends who share your wanderlust (dangerous too, perhaps) to encourage, conspire, or just dream.

Saturday

Amidst a fitful chaos of dreams – you have strange dreams on a boat! – I remembered (unusually) a vivid scene: There were many of us traveling on a highway – boats, trucks, vans and campers – all on the same road (this is a dream, after all), through all kinds of weather, including a towering wall of snow. Then, at a rest stop, I saw an old friend and coworker, Bert.

Bert was a tall, older Southern gentleman who told corny jokes in his slow Tennessee drawl and was quite the dancer. He was always courteous, friendly, professional and neatly dressed. Now I have not seen Bert in over 20 years: but the smile was unmistakable. In my dream, when he saw me he rose up from his wheelchair(?), and I saw that his face was gaunt, and his baggy jeans held up by a belt cinched around his waist. We embraced, and even though he’d appeared thin and weak, I had to stretch to reach my arms around across his broad back, and he hugged me very tightly. Tears of joy flowed freely, and I was filled with an overwhelming sense of warmth and love. Then he vanished.

I woke up. Rarely do I remember dreams so acutely, and I was puzzled. I looked out through the hatch – thousands of stars were visible on the black sheet of the sky. I don’t know if Bert is still alive or has passed (we lost touch when I moved to California) but I treasured the ‘visit’ – and the reminder that the power of love can transcend miles ... ages ...and realms ... and it is more powerful than the sorrow, pain and disappointment that have been my recent companions. I felt the intense love in his presence, I was filled with joy, and my headache was gone.

I slept soundly until 8AM when the Harbor Patrol rapped on our hull to hurry us off our mooring can. The kids again took care of all the boat chores and I could barely pitch in to do a few dishes; mostly I lollygagged on deck enjoying a lovely sail. The perfect combination of warm sun and cool breeze hung with us the entire crossing. At one point a pod of Risso’s dolphins lumbered slowly by – 12 abreast, commanding the sea like a pack of Harleys taking up the whole freeway; a 'pod' of colorful kayaking children passed us too - their bright yellow paddles splayed every which way, and laughter ringing across the water.

What an incredible blessing these days have been; nurtured by friends, graced by the beauty of nature, and reminded of the infinite power of love.