Last night the ship’s foghorn sounded every two minutes for
the entire night. We have hit the thick fog banks south of Nova Scotia and the
sea seems quite different for all that.
But it’s an apt metaphor for our journey right now as we
begin the ending of our beginning.
Today, by chance, I got snagged by the bridge club, playing
tournament “dummy hand” bridge, in the Atlantic Room, of the 11th
floor; we had gone there innocently expecting a quiet lounge only to be
beckoned in by the instructor and asked to sit down as one of a pair. An hour and a half later I emerged, somewhat
crestfallen, completely fogged, having forgotten everything about bids… no matter. Judy had escaped to
the 12th deck.
Tonight is the last formal dress-wear night…we anticipate a
visit to the Commodore Club last thing and, tomorrow, we may even see a whale!
Nicholas
Nova Scotia….New Scotland seems a fitting place for us at
this moment.
I remember reading once that Scotland, parts of the Maritime
Provinces of Canada, and Maine are made
of the same earth, split into separate land masses, when the continental drift
occurred. As we travel these thousands of miles across this great expanse of
sea, I am reminded that I have crossed it in an airplane 22 times, and
Nicholas, twice, before our wedding. It has given me pause, this crossing by
ship…what a vast separation we had between us. How incredible that we met, on a
tiny island in the Atlantic, for 72 hours, 14 years ago…
Perhaps a coincidence…perhaps…I didn’t think so then and I
am more and more certain with each passing day that it was part of something
greater, part of a plan beyond our wildest understanding.
We journeyed across time and space to be united…may our shared
life be a blessing to those we draw alongside….As we continue to make our way
in the fog of the Atlantic, I am holding fast to this image of Scotland,
knowing that things will become clear, defined and beautiful…but until they
are, how glorious to be held in the vessel upon which we are journeying…
Judy
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