My son and his friends have been fixated on the Titanic this
year. They've waited in great anticipation for each new library book they could
check out on the subject.
I was shocked the first time he recalled the story to me. He
asked me, "Mommy did you know about this big boat that was the biggest and
the best, and it broke in half and sank to the bottom of the sea?" Pause. "What?!?!,"
I asked. Another pause. "Are you talking about the Titanic?" He
nodded with glee in my recognition.
I was very surprised to find that not only was he quite knowledgeable
about the tragedy but that he also seemed quite comfortable discussing it. Somewhat
nervous of this newfound fascination and its impact on our upcoming cruise
vacation, I approached the subject very carefully, but he and his friends
continued their five-year-old research with great enthusiasm.
I decided not to worry and found that not one ounce of fear was
produced from their study. My little buddy happily boarded our cruise ship come
June.
Interestingly enough he was quite annoyed by the muster we
practiced lining up for lifeboats before setting sail. The connection to
Titanic was thankfully lost upon him. I on the other hand was perfectly happy
to stand in the sun with sweat dripping off my legs while we stood in close
proximity to the other lines of families cramped together with little ones all
aligned first, practicing how to prepare to board lifeboats. A very worthy
drill and a good reminder of the nautical advancements since Titanic.
After our practice drill and following a lovely week cruising with
my family to beautiful tropical locations (a long awaited Christmas gift fulfilled),
I sat on the final evening upon the muster deck to take one last glance at the
setting sun on the open ocean. Above me hung the shining lifeboats, perfectly
built, strong, sound, able and ready. I found it rather pleasing that they were
yellow.
A thought arose in me about this lovely vacation, this journey
of joy we had experienced the past week, that during all that time these
lifeboats had stood waiting for us, prepared to save us from impending danger.
I don't think I thought much about them during our time on the ship, but I did
notice them. That yellow, that light, did seem to draw the eye.
I reflected on the thought that had gone into the lifeboats’
preparation for this journey as well as the practice and time put into
preparing for their use should we need them.
Having felt somewhat adrift as of late, I was tremendously
thankful for this time with family to regroup. I was also thankful that the
giant yellow lifeboat above me drew my attention that night and reminded me to
think upon the lifeboats I have in life. Some are people, some are places, some
are practices...they are thoughtfully and carefully respected. There has been a
lot of thought put into them, and I know I can count on them.
I also observed the care the crew had taken to keep the
lifeboats shipshape. At each port, they carefully lowered each lifeboat to the
pier to not only inspect each vessel for readiness but also to clean and
perfect each boat’s yellow shine.
Reflecting on this attention to detail, I considered my own
efforts towards supporting and solidifying the relationships I have with the
lifeboats in my life. Have I called, have I visited, have I listened, have I
just been there? With what regular schedule am I reaching out to those I depend
on and not just taking for granted that they are hanging in wait for my next
crisis? Seeing those yellow lifeboats hanging above me on that cruise certainly
gave me pause but also reminded me of the opportunities I have.
So for all you lifeboats out there, thank you, and if it’s been
too long, I’m sorry. I hope that you don’t feel taken for granted because I
adore you and hope to shower you with love and light when we next meet.
And, for those of you looking for a lifeboat, don't be surprised
if it's right in front of you (or right above you). Just look for the light.
With love and light,
LT
