Some more options

Last night, Sam spoke to Buddy and I settled in to get work done. I knew he wouldn't be talking to me for quite some time. Once he and Buddy started speaking, they would be at it for an hour. And it was just fine with me. I had work to do, and I wanted him to remember his enthusiasm for our big plan. Speaking with boat people always inspired him.

So, Sam and Buddy spoke. They spoke and they spoke and they spoke. And when they were done speaking, we finally had a moment to talk...mostly about their conversation. Just as I had hoped, the excitement was back.

We'll be fine once we get away from the dream killers. Whenever he talks to someone who is negative or gives him that look, he begins to doubt. He thinks differently. Suddenly he starts planning this life on land.

And I have to admit, I'm looking at him differently. I always thought he had a stronger personality than that. I thought that he was a man of conviction that would stand up for what he believed in. Mostly, I thought he believed in us. I thought he believed in our dream, our plans for the future.

To see him happy, to see the sparkle, made me feel so much better. We spoke about our options. Buddy has bought a boat shop. He refits and cleans and repairs boats. He'd love to hire Sam to do some carpentry work. He assured him that he'd make great money. Hmmm. Great money while we live on a boat and have low overhead. We could sail every day after work for a few hours. We could really learn and improve our skills. Sam could learn some necessary boat skills.

Then I saw the sparkle fade.

Sam: We can't do that. We have too much going on here. What do we do with the house?

The truth is that we don't have a much going on here. The company that he was supposed to start subbing for this past week has kind of fizzled. They have one job for him. One. It will take a day...maybe two, depending upon his laborers. And then...nothing.

But I don't want to point that out. It will only make him angry and more stubborn. Instead, I have to offer options.

me: We'll talk after the weekend. We'll talk over the weekend.

The truth is that we are stuck here at least until the IRS delivers my money. We're here until the passports arrive. We're here until we have a renter for the house, since he's suddenly determined to keep it, and convinced that we can. We're here until we take care of everything, moving all our things. We're here.

And while I'm a big believer in the here and now. I don't want to be here now. I have my reasons. They are sound. They aren't going to change. Ah, but change...change, I embrace. I need things to be different and better and new...somewhere else.

We'll know more soon. But this weekend, in Charleston, I'll breathe.