A couple of weeks ago, Mom confided to me in a phone conversation that she was having trouble finding inspiration in composing a poem to send us on our way this year. I offered consoling and sympathetic words, things like “Don’t stress about it at all,” and “Aren’t we lucky to have received so many over the years?” and “We know you’ll be thinking about us.” And then I hung up the phone and thought, “No poem? How can we leave home without a poem?” And when I told G, he said, “What do you mean there’s no poem this year?” In other words, these poems are an integral part of our winters at sea.
Well, inspiration must have struck suddenly, because one day a little over a week ago, there was card in the mail from Mom. Sure enough, there was a poem inside, and suddenly the world made sense again.
At 86 years old, Mom is still writing poetry (and letters to the editor of her local paper!) and walking two miles a day and leading the choir and pinochle clubs and Sunday rosary, and is a passionate trivia player. I want to be her when I grow up.
Note to my Aussie friends: please don’t take offense. ‘Coherent’ simply rhymed with ‘different’. We know full well that we’ll be the incoherent ones with the different accents on these cruises! ;-)
We have the poem. There’s no more ice cream in the refrigerator. These are two sure signs that it’s time to start this adventure.
Next stop: Sydney!