rudderless

Golden Girls

This has not been our finest month. Between the stress of the engine situation (that miraculously arrived, yay Yanmar!), the weather, and feeling like we may never be able to sit and enjoy our boat, we are, in a word, fried. To read a book in a quiet anchorage . . . it is a goal so close, so tenable, and yet in the flurry of last-minute preparations, it feels like a lifetime away.

There has been a highlight. Our ladies. Our sisters. They have found each other. Today they were sitting at the table in their usual spots, Sophie surrounded by about six dozen toys and bits of jewelry. Rosy with wild, wild hair and the orbit of cracker crumbs that usually surrounds her. They were sharing watercolors and talking to each other like the Golden Girls. “Oh, I wike that color Sophia. It’s pretty, Sophia.” “Now wash your brush off, Rose. Don’t make them all brown, Rose.” Sophie was endlessly patient, even as Rosy made mud of a few colors. She even praised the concoctions- “That one’s better than the first yellow!” It was so unexpected, so perfect, I just sat and watched.

Whether it’s happenstance that they’ve discovered one another on the boat, whether it has anything to do with the close quarters of the hot months, or the lack of many other playmates- I have no idea. But I do know that they’ve slipped into a rhythm of true appreciation and true friendship. They look out for one another. Sophie puts Rosy’s shoes on when we leave the boat. Rosy, as stubborn as she is, is willing to share most anything in the world with Sophie. These past two years were hard, hard times for all of us. Adjusting to a colicky newborn, then managing the emotions of Sophie’s jealousy. Juggling the praise and “special time” they both needed. But we’ve somehow, on the eve of a second birthday, arrived at the good place. I can send them off together and know they will be a team. Today Sophie was trying to think of something she could play with Rosy. Her eyes got big and she laughed, “I know Rosy, we can MAKE MISCHIEF!!”

It is what I wanted most in the world for them. I hope it lasts. Something tells me that it will.

I read a caption on a photo of a little boy recently. His mom wrote about how fast the time was flying, how she wished she could slow it down. Her husband said something so perfect- “Remember, we made him for him. We didn’t make him for us.” We made them for who they are, and who they will be. We also made them for each other. Rose and Sophia.