My husband loves boats. He loves boats the way other men love
football or golf. I didn’t know when we first started dating exactly
how deep his love of boating went, although it became clear pretty
quickly when we went to our first boat show together. I was ready to
call it a day after an hour or two but my husband couldn’t get enough.
He would point excitedly to a boat and describe how that bow sits just a
little higher.
I would squint and try to make my eyes see what he was seeing. I couldn’t but I would nod and smile and he would smile back, confident he had found the perfect woman to share his passion.
My next clue came almost a year later when we spent Memorial Day cleaning up his boat and getting her ready for the summer. It was a lot of washing and waxing and painting. It was hot that weekend. Record heat and there we were in a boat yard, sun pounding on the tops of our heads. We talked and laughed and he occasionally corrected my somewhat misguided attempts at proper washing and waxing technique. I am hoping we drank some cold beer but truthfully I don’t remember.
Since we got married, a few boats have come and gone. That first boat was sold and a slightly larger, newer model took her place. He brought her home from New Jersey, one chilly October evening when I was eight months pregnant with our first child. Apparently October is the best time to buy a boat. I won't pretend that went over well with me but I think I'll blame it on the hormones.
We had that boat for a couple years and when we took our first born out on it he was about 20 months old and wanted no part of the life jacket. He screamed for the entire tour of the Connecticut River. He cried himself into exhaustion and my husband into despair. He thought now he would not have a fishing buddy.
That boat was sold after child number two came along. We were without a boat for a summer. I htink my husband might have cried himself to sleep a couple nights but search was on. Internet had taken hold and he could search all kinds of web sites. Ebay was a favorite but I think he also found a site called, “your wife will love this boat.com.”
He searched and found another boat that suited his needs for fishing since taking our young children out for an adventure wasn’t in my plan just yet. No one liked the life jacket and in our house no one sets off on a boating adventure without one. So a smaller boat came to live with us for awhile.
After that boat came another one that was larger and better for our growing family of five and made me happier because the sides were high enough to keep our small children from falling overboard.
While I was on that boat last summer, I commented on how it would be better to have a "potty." That is all I needed to say. The hunt was on. He looked long and hard and a few weeks ago our boat was pulled out of our driveway off to a new home and plans were made to bring home a slightly larger model with a “potty.”
Now it would seem we would have the perfect boat. It has been a bit of a journey but when someone has a passion for something it is best to give them some room.
We all have something that makes us tick. That gives us something beyond what our career may offer us and sometimes even what friends or family offer. It is important, I believe to have a passion. My husband has lived with my passion for books and writing all these years.
He has patiently wandered through bookstores and libraries. He has listened to my endless campaigns to get to one writer retreat or another. There is one that advertised in a writing magazine for a week in Tuscany, writing and retreating while eating and drinking. I have revisted that web site many times, thoughts of delicious food and wine pushing away daily chores of laundry and cleaning. It’s exciting just thinking about such an adventure.
I hunt out used book stores and library book sales. I go to writing workshops and author readings. He waves happily as I drive off to these various activities that mean little to him. He has also occasionally taken a back seat to a book I just couldn’t put down. He becomes a book widower and takes that in stride.
Last week when he and a good friend of ours pulled the new boat into her place in the driveway, both men stood looking at her as though she were the 8th Wonder of the World. These men share words like transom and horsepower.
They buy lures and have tackle boxes chock full of things that just look dangerous to me. These men come alive when the sun beats warm and the fish are plenty. And I will become a boat widow for the summer.
After our friend had left I went out to the driveway to find my husband and our 3-year-old sitting together in the boat, the orange sun setting over the bow, the music playing from the stereo and two faces glowing in pure bliss. Perhaps my husband has found the perfect boat and a fisherman to share his passion.
And perhaps for me there is a trip to Tuscany in my future.
I would squint and try to make my eyes see what he was seeing. I couldn’t but I would nod and smile and he would smile back, confident he had found the perfect woman to share his passion.
My next clue came almost a year later when we spent Memorial Day cleaning up his boat and getting her ready for the summer. It was a lot of washing and waxing and painting. It was hot that weekend. Record heat and there we were in a boat yard, sun pounding on the tops of our heads. We talked and laughed and he occasionally corrected my somewhat misguided attempts at proper washing and waxing technique. I am hoping we drank some cold beer but truthfully I don’t remember.
Since we got married, a few boats have come and gone. That first boat was sold and a slightly larger, newer model took her place. He brought her home from New Jersey, one chilly October evening when I was eight months pregnant with our first child. Apparently October is the best time to buy a boat. I won't pretend that went over well with me but I think I'll blame it on the hormones.
We had that boat for a couple years and when we took our first born out on it he was about 20 months old and wanted no part of the life jacket. He screamed for the entire tour of the Connecticut River. He cried himself into exhaustion and my husband into despair. He thought now he would not have a fishing buddy.
That boat was sold after child number two came along. We were without a boat for a summer. I htink my husband might have cried himself to sleep a couple nights but search was on. Internet had taken hold and he could search all kinds of web sites. Ebay was a favorite but I think he also found a site called, “your wife will love this boat.com.”
He searched and found another boat that suited his needs for fishing since taking our young children out for an adventure wasn’t in my plan just yet. No one liked the life jacket and in our house no one sets off on a boating adventure without one. So a smaller boat came to live with us for awhile.
After that boat came another one that was larger and better for our growing family of five and made me happier because the sides were high enough to keep our small children from falling overboard.
While I was on that boat last summer, I commented on how it would be better to have a "potty." That is all I needed to say. The hunt was on. He looked long and hard and a few weeks ago our boat was pulled out of our driveway off to a new home and plans were made to bring home a slightly larger model with a “potty.”
Now it would seem we would have the perfect boat. It has been a bit of a journey but when someone has a passion for something it is best to give them some room.
We all have something that makes us tick. That gives us something beyond what our career may offer us and sometimes even what friends or family offer. It is important, I believe to have a passion. My husband has lived with my passion for books and writing all these years.
He has patiently wandered through bookstores and libraries. He has listened to my endless campaigns to get to one writer retreat or another. There is one that advertised in a writing magazine for a week in Tuscany, writing and retreating while eating and drinking. I have revisted that web site many times, thoughts of delicious food and wine pushing away daily chores of laundry and cleaning. It’s exciting just thinking about such an adventure.
I hunt out used book stores and library book sales. I go to writing workshops and author readings. He waves happily as I drive off to these various activities that mean little to him. He has also occasionally taken a back seat to a book I just couldn’t put down. He becomes a book widower and takes that in stride.
Last week when he and a good friend of ours pulled the new boat into her place in the driveway, both men stood looking at her as though she were the 8th Wonder of the World. These men share words like transom and horsepower.
They buy lures and have tackle boxes chock full of things that just look dangerous to me. These men come alive when the sun beats warm and the fish are plenty. And I will become a boat widow for the summer.
After our friend had left I went out to the driveway to find my husband and our 3-year-old sitting together in the boat, the orange sun setting over the bow, the music playing from the stereo and two faces glowing in pure bliss. Perhaps my husband has found the perfect boat and a fisherman to share his passion.
And perhaps for me there is a trip to Tuscany in my future.
