Love in the Time of Corona

The last entry to this blog was from January. It's April 4th today. I'm sitting on my boat with Lily. It's a sunny day and there's a cold air blowing in from the south. As with the last number of seasons and years, I'd used a disposable camera to document moments. These photos were of last summer and fall, and have been posted in a reversed order. 

I'd found love within the harbour limits and was in awe at how everything I could have asked for had come to fruition. I'd also been feeling spread thin, as many things were changing and there were a few worlds to juggle at once. The saltwater cowboy and I parted ways the day before Valentines Day. It took one world off the list, and added a hole left to fill in my heart. 

I've taken the Leslie Gale off the dock once so far, to putter around the harbour, practice docking and fill up the fuel tanks. The Cow Bay Marina is closed indefinitely, due to the coronavirus. 

It takes me a while to process change. I can turn my head and glance over at Dodge Cove across the harbour, with a sigh. I miss that life and living in love.  

I'd been saying for a while that I wished there was a fast forward button for times of grief and change. A friend was reminding me that perhaps living in Prince Rupert is a fast forward button in itself, as communities of friends and professionals overlap and one must learn to make it work. 

When we initially parted ways I was left heavy hearted and overwhelmed. There was a new boat, dog and job to learn. Life had been uprooted to be closer to land and love, then uprooted again to move off Digby, and again with the onset of the coronavirus.   

Processing changing dreams is still a work in progress. Sometimes I feel on top and so full of hope and excitement for the future. Other times, it's heartbreak from the passing of a life I'd dreamt of for so long. 

I've been spending time at work, deckhanding on ship-docking tugboats, and on my boat too. Lily the dog, my parents and occasionally my siblings have been the company that fills my heart. Initially, I'd had the feeling of "Oh no, what have I done", in regards to a boat, a mature job and dog. I thought of the travelling I still longed to do and the seasons off I could fill creatively. 

With the way life has been unfolding now, I feel immense gratitude for my floating sanctuary, my constant companion and generous employment. As well as the support of friends and family for making it all possible. 

I'm lonely, and held in such support at the same time. I'm heavy hearted and the rest of the world is too.  

For now, I'll put my head down, keep working and learning, spending time with Lily and family from afar. 

This solitary time has shown me things about myself that I could work on, and I'll try doing that too. There's book projects to finish, posts to be drilled and cabins to build and fund.

This chapter paved the way for me to glide into this next one, empowering a sense of self I'd longed for; and for that I'm ever so grateful. It was all meant to be, I'm sure. 

If grief is the price we pay for love, I suppose I'll have to become accustom to the exchange, as it is part of the human experience. 

Take care, don't be afraid to reach out, I'm working on punctuality with following up, as well as communication! 

With love, Ocean 

P.S: Now I truly feel like a Gumboot Girl  :) 

An Ode to Digby: Thank you~