My Story


My Story:

After the illness and death of our only daughter, my husband and I decided to rent a boat and go sailing in the gulf of Mexico for a month. This is where, on New Year's Day 2005, we were caught in a storm, shipwrecked and my husband drowned. I have been on this island, which seems to be caught in some kind of portal or other dimension, ever since, free to explore philosophical and spiritual thoughts, yet physically unable to leave.

Other characters seem to be able to come and go as they please however, as I have met a few of them since being here. They visit me every once in awhile. Aquaman and Gypsy Queen were the first to appear. Gollum showed up after, then came El Alejandro and Stick-Paul, into whose dimension I was able to go a few hours before being pulled back to my island. More recently, Mr. Tumnus has been around.

Other than rare visits from these characters, I have the constant chattering of monkeys and sqawking of parrots to fill my days.

Every once in awhile, when the wind is just right, and I am able to power up the make-shift generator I made (I am handy aren't I?), charge my satelite phone, which has internet access (even out here), I am able to post a little something on my current life as a shipwrecked woman. Don't bother trying to rescue me just yet. I doubt you'd find me anyway. This seems to be one of those Bermuda Triangle things. I'm not sure I'm even in the same dimension anymore. But hey, the satelite phone still works, how cool is that?



Sunday, November 12, 2006

Nightmare

I dreamt I was back on the boat last night, as it was starting to sink. My husband was helping me into the rowboat, when he slipped and fell overboard. I dove in to try to find him, but it was dark and windy and raining, and I kept swimming around in circles and swimming around in circles, calling his name...

My husband and I had rented a sailboat so we could go sailing for a month in the gulf of Mexico, visit some of the small uninhabited islands (my dream) and go fishing (his dream). It was supposed to be a second honeymoon, (although technically, we never really went on a first honeymoon) but also it was supposed to be a fun adventure, rest and relaxation after the long illness and death of our daughter. It was supposed to bring us together, not separate us.

My husband was trying to get the rowboat untied when he fell overboard. In the dark and cold, with adrenaline rushing through him, he fumbled at the knots and instead of coming esily untied, they became hopelessly knotted. I had gone to get a knife to cut them, while he stayed to work at the knots. He leaned too far over and lost his grip on the slippery edge of the boat...

I slashed the ropes and dove in after him, but I never found him. He could not swim very well, and in those conditions it would have been even harder.

It has been two years now. I have been on this island, mostly alone, for two whole years. I have had lots of time to think. I have had lots of time to pray. I have had lots of time to be alone. I think I would not go back now. I have come to appreciate solitude.

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