Port Ludlow

Last summer my father wrote a 5-year plan with the caveat that he may renew, revise and otherwise abandon any portion of it for anything he deems more worthy. It is a 4 page, rather comprehensive list of what he wants to explore, accomplish, play at and learn in that time as well as what he does not wish to put up with any longer e.g. congested traffic, his friends' “organ recitals*” (* an "organ recital” a listing of all that is wrong with one’s (internal) organs), crowded social situations that challenge his hearing such as movie theaters, and crowded restaurants. On his list of ‘must have’s’ for this new locale were: access to a marina, golf course, a wood shop, grocery store, a view of the water —salt water to be sure and new places to explore. In pursuit of his Walden he has taken many sojourns hither and yon, traveling all over Washington State sampling various small towns where he has friends or interests he might develop.

Now this all sounds wonderful! Amazing for a man of 85 ½ to be embarking with such enthusiasm on each and every day!

But you only think that because you haven’t been here to hear the prelude, the thought process unfolding without tether, sans contingency plan should the “Big Black Question Mark” (his term) swoop in the night to claim his restless soul. You have not been peopling the set in your minds’ movie as he describes the live aboard boat he might buy to gunk hole solo though the San Juan Islands, the extra-remote wooded acreage upon which to fashion his own tools and (again) bring forth a cabin from which to enjoy the sunsets, the luxury mobile home he might obtain, drive to Mexico and place aboard a flatbed train to meander through the countryside while he sits in a lawn chair with a single malt. And while I don't mean to belabor the point, you have not been here tsk, tsking away my imagined fears for him, nor have I begun to exhaust the plethora of options he has entertained. Nor were you charged by my mother to “look after my father” which I know to be her code for keeping his ideas anchored to earth. Wish that she had requested I reconfigure the Milky Way or alter the course of the Nile, something conceivably achievable! But the truth is that he has been at loose ends since my mother passed 3 years ago, we all have, honestly, she was our favorite team player, and we are patching ourselves together with slightly different roles than before. And I don’t know how to do mine.

His plans haunted me because I am my mother’s daughter and she taught me well to err on the side of caution. I therefore thought my role included focusing on those things that might materialize and bite him. However, I am also my father’s daughter so I well understand plunging ahead confident that the resulting consequences also bring their answers with them. I can do this for myself. I don’t know how to be in charge of someone else, especially an adult, my parent no less. But therein lies the key. I was discounting who “he” is.

He has found a place he is particularly enamored of, Port Ludlow, approximately 90 minutes by ferry from Seattle. I worried that he might need me and I would be so far away, (the distance being further extended by the fact that I kept confusing Port Ludlow for Port Townsend, producing a lengthy erroneous detour) when rushing to his rescue from the figurative bookcase under which he might lay trapped in the middle of the night while the storms raged and the seas rose and the meteors hurtled closer to earth (gasp)!

So yesterday, Courtney and I went with my father to see this paradise, this haven of peace in a frantic world. And it was amazing! There were so few cars on the road that when Courtney told me something I found appalling that happened at her work (she’s a school psychologist) I actually stopped the car in the middle of the road to stare at her incredulously and there were no other drivers to disturb! On the exceedingly infrequent occasion when we did encounter another vehicle I would shout out ‘TRAFFIC!’ with alarm and Courtney would roll her eyes and punch me. (When my arm began to hurt I gave it a rest thus proving I do consider my children’s input.) Everyone we passed waved and smiled, obviously happy to be there, which did make me worry briefly that they were brainwashed. There are 27 miles of groomed trails to walk affording many views out to the sea and I will supply my father with bags of breadcrumbs (or string given the crumbs worked nary so well for Hansel).

I’m in love with this place! All of my worry went *poof*. My father signed a 6-month lease to see how this new place fits. He has a private view of the water, no curtains required, sea birds to watch, beaches to walk, a marina to putter around, 18 holes to golf, a wood shop nearby and a pool.

And I absorbed lessons I will commit to my heart

Don’t borrow trouble.
Fear helps nothing.
Trust; God’s got your back.
Encourage others dreams.

Nice call, gladders, thank you :)

This is a photo of the marina near his new home. I was going to blip a photo of my dad and daughter, Courtney, but I thought that since I recently became a member of the Cloud Appreciation Society, thank you trevorearthy, I would blip this. Courtney called it the 'cloud o the month club', which leads me to hope I’ll get one in the mail and completely baffles my father who likes his skies blue and unfettered, like his dreams.

My parents have taught me to keep learning, to continue to love and grow and explore more of this world, expanding my life rather than allowing age to diminish it. And this I wish for each of you, too!

Happy New Year, Blippers! Where shall we all go from here?

Love you Papa, more than you know.