Don't get me wrong, I am so excited that we are about to begin cruising again. But there is a little piece of me...okay...a fairly large piece of me that is also mourning a bit as well. You see, despite the fact that I label myself a "gypsy" I'm really anything but. I put down roots and get nice and comfy when I sit in one place for a while, and it happens fast and naturally. It's a contradiction that has battled in me as long as I can remember; this urge to settle and the insatiable desire to venture off. It makes for tearful farewells. No matter how many times I have done it, I am epically horrible at saying goodbye. I am the worst kind of traveler: sentimental, nostalgic and emotional. Ugh.
While Scott was working, Isla and I fell into quite a nice little routine here. We've made friends all over the place. At West Marine I am known as the lady with the baby. Our favorite store clerk, Steve, saw us and announced, "There's my girls!" when we walked in the other day. We were on a first name basis with every barista at the local coffe shop down the street and they always gave Isla a free packet of blueberries (her favorite) when we went in. We had a nice little schtick going with our regular waiter at the Greek restaurant we liked and whenever we'd pass the French bistro where I bought fresh bread we were always given a wave and a smile from the baker behind the window. I know these little things don't seem like much, but they are. They are signs of familiarity. Signs of community. Turns out you really do want to go where everybody knows your name from time to time. That's how this town has started to feel to us. Comfy and familiar. We've made wonderful, life-long friends. Not just of the store clerk variety, either. I'm talking about real, honest-to-goodness friends who we are going to miss something awful. But that's life, right? Always moving. Never constant. We come and we go. Like tides in the ocean, we ebb and we flow.
It's funny to recall our time here, the ups and downs and in betweens. How bizarre it was when we first arrived, how I literally felt like I landed in a looney bin. It all seems like yesterday, and at the same time a million years ago. I guess I always knew that this day would come, but it seemed so distant and so far away. I never re-calibrated my inner clock as the time to leave drew nearer. Yet here we are, uprooting. Ready to cast off. And as sad as it is to close this chapter, it is equally (if not more) exciting that we are on the dawn of a new one. Soon, uprooting will be easy and natural as we launch back into our life where moving regularly is the norm. Soon I'll reconnect with my old gypsy self. For now though, I've got to shake the dust off these little roots and get back into that groove.
Farewell Ft. Lauderdale! You will forever and ever hold a very special place in our hearts as being a very poignant chapter in our lives.
6 comments:
You are not alone in that feeling Brittany, and its not just women that feel it.
For all my dreams, desire, and wanderlust, I find that I am also very much a creature of routine and I like my routine... from going to the same gym every day to flying to the same European destinations every week where I know good restaurants and the waiters know me. Add to that a girlfriend who I really love who has younger kids still at home, my own two grown children, and now two grandchildren, plus a well-paying and comfortable job and it makes it hard to throw off the dock lines...really hard.
But the pull of a dream unfulfilled cannot be ignored or hidden away. Eventually that has to be addressed and you have to decide which is more important to you.
The courage it takes to leave all that behind to chase your dream is the stuff that the great adventurers, the Lindberghs, the Hemingways, the Slocums of the world had in common with you. It is what caused continents to be discovered and space to be explored. Those are the footsteps you follow in and you can be assured that you and Scott are not alone as you leave the place you have come to know and love behind. You take a piece of it in your hearts always and those that you love will be with you there always.
Fair winds and following seas and may your mornings be filled with beautiful rays of sunshine and evenings with awesome colorful sunsets. And may the wildlife bring great joy as you sail though the great big blue sea.
No doubt the Ft. Lauderdale community will miss the crew of Asante, too! Starts and finishes are always tough, whether in sailing, relationships, or personal journeys. But as you say, you'll be in your groove soon enough. Can't wait to follow along when you leave the dock!
I think it makes sense, I would be sad also!
I agree with how you feel about leaving a place you've become so accustom to and called home, but once you feel the wind in your face and see the view of the familiar diminish in the background you'll smile again and get the rush of traveling and the feel of adventure, because you're doing what you were meant to do….Cruise! Lots of hugs and smiles and tears…we are with you and support you in this beginning….:)
"Bon Voyage!", Brittany, Scott, and Isla!! I've had to move and "start over" many times in my life, due to my husband's job . . . and while we're always sad to leave a place we have grown comfortable in, we soon find ourselves so comfortable in that "new" place . . . that when it comes time to move again . . . we don't want to leave there either!! You are all so friendly, and you'll never have trouble making, and keeping, really close friends . . . and your circle of friendships will be even wider . . . like ripples on the water! I love (and have adopted) the saying "Strangers are "friends" we haven't met yet!" So, go, and make more friends, and shed your own bright light around to more and more lucky individuals!!! Godspeed to Asante and her crew!!! Carol Florida U.S.A. <3
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