Point No Point...that IS the point!
I made it...after working into the afternoon on Saturday. It was slog-city...don't know why this year was particularly difficult...well, actually, I do. Grief makes everything MUD. At the Point, I enjoyed being embraced as soon as I came through the gate...and kicking Mary J. out of "my spot" next to the G & G Surridge's cabin. I had fun praying my version of the Rosary on the way up, because it was hard to go there without Fiona and Sadie, and I shucked corn on the ferry. Some things are so right with this world--like learning that my nephew, Kellen Michael-superhero in StarWars underwear-knows just as much about Star Wars I as I do...and I even had him joining me in long tracts of dialogues from obscure scenes, characters, and droids! He is only 5! It is genetic-I am convinced, just like the tendency to save bread tabs and popcan tabs. Long naps, a longer walk in the early misty morning, heron sightings, conversations with my father, hanging near my mother, coffee and friends, Brenin walking around the Point with me on Saturday night to celebrate Fiona by giving some of her ashes to the Point No Point sound where she loved to run and swim, drinking port and sharing stories to sweeten the memories and the crush in my chest...there was no or little drama ( I would have sensed it even if I wasn't part of it)...we missed Colleen and Brigid, Mark and julie too, very much and included them in our conversations, observations, and general butting-ins. I miss the memories of Matt and Kymm and their darling brood. Aidan may never know the pleasure of catching crabs with Joey or reading the comics by flashlight with Ashley Grace...or the general romp in and out of tents and the big RV. I brought a Mississippi delicacy up to the Point and very few folks shared in my Koolaid pickles. The brave souls were Mary J, Andy, Dawna, Mehrdad, Uncle Ron, and Ariana. We talked Mom out of it. I didn't want to ruin her palate for the next 48 hours. The evening fires were great. Meaghan brought all the makings for s'mores and popcorn. There was a driftwood gathering bonding experience. There was improv harp music under the stars and songs from the under 5 crowd that no one could understand...there were enough dogs for distraction. It was a good weekend. The ride home was uneventful. Mary J and I had a nice visit in line while waiting for the ferry. Apparently, the obsession is spreading. My neighbor, Tom, across the street, bought a bucket of bolts RV just like mine for his upcoming adventure across the US of A. Only differences--it's one year older, 2 feet longer, has bunk beds in the back, and is painted blue and turquoise swipes on the hood and sides. Spiffy--welcome to the neighborhood! Tomorrow is the first day with the students---Boy, am I ready to be back in that saddle!