Spirited Away
Probably by next week, I’ll be finished with the boat. My father and I started building it from scratch when he retired; it wasn’t something we wanted to do quickly, but rather an excuse for us to spend time together.
I think, at least. I felt like everything he taught me while working on that book was a metaphor for my life, the last chances for an old man to pass on his wisdom. He kept reminding me not to rush it, to build it strong. If you don’t rush, he said, it can last for lifetimes beyond yours. He called it my legacy, but it was really his.
I’m of two minds about finishing it. Every day I’ve been out here working on it, installing the new Evinrude parts (great engine) and the Mercury outboard parts, and I can feel him working beside me. Not in a creepy way, he’s just there.
And I wonder, if I tread different paths, if instead of going to the marine supply store I take the boat onto the water, will he still be walking beside me? At the same time, how can I not finish, not see if Spirited Away is seaworthy or not? I know she is, but it’s a different thing to see her actually floating, sailing, racing into the horizon.
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