Another (totally different) Passage

Signal Flags

The grab bags are packed and ready by the bunk: water, granola bars, blankets.
She is listing hard. The ballast is deep but the weight rolls and shifts and kicks within her. She hasn’t yet left the dock, the lines (blood and flesh) still hold her.
She will soon be righted.

I am anxious as I go through the aisles of Trader Joe's on this familiar game of passage-making preparation. Who knows how long the passage will be? What should I expect? I provision heavily. Dinner one: bacon wrapped pork tenderloin with mashed taters and sauteed apples. Dinner two: stuffed turkey breast with roasted fennel and onions. Dinner three: portobello mushrooms stacked with roasted peppers, spinach, and goat cheese.
Nothing spicy, nothing too acidic. Don't make anyone sick.

I think on all those evenings gazing up at the emerging stars as a warm bowl of pasta sits on my foul weather geared lap, salt spray seasoning my food. I think of the nights I have been too tired to enjoy eating but needed the companionship a meal provides. I think of the nights held by the water, the sloshing fluid my home and the thumping of the bow through the waves a reassuring heartbeat.

This will be different. The city lights blur out the stars and moon. This roof will be my universe.

How many casseroles should I make? How much freezer space will I have? Will any of us be hungry or too exhausted to eat? I know one of us will be a drinker. It doesn’t worry me. I hope he drinks a lot actually. And sleeps through the night.

He’s not on watch this time with the rest of us.

He is the reason for the watch.

The passage will begin with cramps and contractions and a ride to the hospital. There will be storms with lots of cussing and lulls with hand holding and sweet words. There will be blood and poop and life and joy.

This is a new passage with my listing, rolling, very pregnant sister.

All I can do is cook and clean and feed and support: my usual role, in a very different setting. These cupboards aren’t on the diagonal, these onesies don’t need to be waterproofed, this passage has no set destination.

It is time to throw off the docklines little one! 

(but wait til next week, I hear my sister saying)

You will be our captain, no doubt about it.

I'm ecstatic and terrified and overjoyed for this (your) delivery.

Fair winds and following seas until we meet!