I’ve only been living on the boat for about a week and a half, but it very much feels like the beginning of a new life - one I’m already deeply entrenched in, in a wonderful way.
Packing and moving was stressful, of course, and when the moment came to close the door for the last time, it rocked me a bit, but I said goodbye, hurriedly shut the door and walked with purpose down the hall for the last time.
To be completely honest, I don’t miss it one bit. I think this move was exactly what I needed, as I immediately felt a burden lifted, and every day brings me one step closer to acceptance. I am no longer angry. How can one be angry surrounded by the water? When I think of Luke now, it is with a swelling in my heart, but the anger left the day I closed that door. I’m far from acceptance, but I’m in the best place I can be for right now, and that’s good enough for me.
On July 31st, one of Luke’s oldest friends fulfilled Luke’s wishes to have his ashes spread at Westport where he used to surf. This happened on the same day I moved onto the boat, and I can’t help but feel a connection to him in the water. It has always been the water, with us, and it’s something elusive and vast enough that it’s easier to embrace the possibility of something greater. We are both home now in many ways, still and always connected.
I remember talking with him about how much time I’d have left on this earth without him; I remember it being a problem to solve, as though there would be a reunion someday. I don’t believe in an afterlife, and I know I’ll never see him again, even in death, but I feel connected to him by honoring his memory in my heart. He will always be my love, and the beautiful and wonderful thing is that nothing can ever change that.
I’m finally to the point in my grieving process where I can stop putting him on a pedestal; he was human and just as flawed as the rest of us. We weren’t perfect, and at times our love was exceptionally challenged, but I do believe it’s what love does under pressure that counts the most. Can it withstand the harshest challenges? Does it grow stronger, or wither in the face of difficulty?
It’s hard for me, not feeling him here. It’s hard for me to admit that it’s no longer about Luke. He isn’t here. Moving out of the apartment helped me realize that more, and I’m no longer living my life with the overwhelming feeling of him watching me. It feels selfish to say, to feel, that my life is about me now. Isn’t that strange? Somehow it seems disrespectful to say that life is for the living, that I’m still alive and deserve happiness. Is that what they mean by survivor’s guilt?
Regardless, here it is, and moving onto the boat has helped me embrace it. I am completely single for the first time in my life, I am living on a beautiful lake, and am actively fulfilling my dreams. My career is only moving upward and I have the most amazing friends and family anyone could hope for. I have love in my life, and burning passion deep in my belly, and as far as I can tell, that’s not a bad start.
<3