Salute to Bessie the beater ...

Dear Bessie,

For the last nineteen days, you have been my good friend. In fact you were my first new island friend. You may look a little rough around the edges and the check engine light being on constantly may scare a few people , but you have been good to me. Your brakes have been squealing a little bit more since you drove through that seven inches of standing water left from that deluge of crazy rain , but you got me home safely when I wasn't sure you could.  You climbed Jacob's ladder, and took a couple of the switchbacks of North Shore Road without any 4 wheel drive despite the rain! You played good music (usually) - even the Tire Kingdom jingle that I have come to love from so many past trips! 

But, alas, it is time to go our separate ways. Don't be upset-you aren't being sent to the junk dealership for parts (yet!) I just have a new babe in my life.... And her name is

Nessie (Not Bessie)! The gentleman that Leslie encountered when she was faxing her licensing documents indeed had our long term ride. She is a 2008 hard top Jeep Wrangler, loaded! I have had an auto broker looking for a reasonably priced SUV type vehicle, but the pickings have been mighty slim. So when this fellow told Leslie that he was looking for a good home for “his baby” she had him send me the info, and before we knew it, the deal was done!

Nessie - aka "Fun Car"

Back on the home (Florida, not St. John) front, things are progressing, but not nearly at the rate I'd like, towards me being able to join Leslie at our new home. We knew there were a lot of loose ends to wrap up, a lot of "stuff" to decide how to deal with, and still some fairly big decisions to be made. 

I just finished up my last full season of soccer coaching (unless I find a group of kids on St. John that need a coach...), I was here to help ship Jason off to China for the summer, and as mentioned before, am here to help Shane transition to whatever he decides to do next. 

It's actually pretty timely in some respects - one of the biggest tasks that I have alluded to is that of deciding what to do with all of the "things" we've accumulated over the years. What do we need, what do we want, what can we do without? And these same questions pertain to the boys and all of their stuff as well, so being here with them to help usher them through that process isn't a bad thing. It's very interesting to see which of their items they each choose to hang on to, and what they decide to jettison - sort of a window into their souls if you will.

 

...But the memories...

In any purge such as this one there are going to be things that have some sentimental value that have to go. It's really the memories that are attached to these things, and not the things themselves that are precious, and truth be told, a lot of this stuff should have been gone a long time ago (but we had room - the hoarders credo!)

One such item was put out on the curb for trash pickup by Jason. I remember when he bought it, at quite a young age, with his own money. I always flattered myself that he got it to emulate me when we spent time together watching TV, playing games, or just hanging out in the family room. In a lot of ways that piece of furniture was a metaphor for our kids' childhoods. I suppose seeing it by the road like that struck me as a metaphor for their growing up and leaving "the nest" for good. And it's ironic, because it reminds me of another piece of furniture that's become, for a lot of people, a symbol of getting away to the place that Leslie and I are making our new home.

Kenny Chesney sang a song, about an old blue rocking chair

And how it made him see the world when he was sitting there

There's another chair of blue that doesn't rock, this one reclines

That will always hold a special place in the pictures in my mind

That blue chair that was on the beach, tells tales of KC's past

While this one on the curb shows me that life moves on so fast

I'm so proud of the boy, nay - man, who now has let it go

But we'll both keep the memories made near that chair, I know

One day soon we'll walk that sand, where once a blue chair sat

Rum drinks in hand, just man to man, we'll reminisce and chat

I can't wait to hear the stories, of his travels here and there

From the man that was my little boy, sitting in his "daddy chair"