by Christine Kling
The other day someone posted a comment under one of my Facebook photos. It went something like this – “I wish I could live your life for just one day.”
I get it. really I do. You see, on Tuesday, Wayne and I flew to the Caribbean island of Sint Maarten to visit his best friends – a family of six cruising aboard a Lagoon Power Cat. The four kids range in age from 5 to 13 and they are smart, fun kids, while their parents are brilliant and fascinating folks who are cruising, working and home schooling their way around the Caribbean. It’s now Friday, and we’ve been having a blast with them.
Although we didn’t plan it this way, we’ve flown into the middle of the Heineken Regatta, the biggest yachtie party on the island.
There was a time when I might have made the same comment to someone else. A time when I thought I wanted someone else’s life. I simply can’t believe how lucky I am to be living this life now, one week short of my 60th birthday, and I try to say thank you to the universe every day.
I remember working as a waitress over 30 years ago at the Pierpont Inn, a beautiful old historic inn located on a bluff overlooking the Channel Islands in California. My then-husband Jim and I spent 3 years building a big 55-foot boat, and I’d work in the fiberglass and wood dust all day long, then go off and wait tables at night. On my breaks, I would go up to a storage room on the second floor and sit in the window watching the fancy European cars pull up to the front of the restaurant. I’d make up stories about the lives of the ladies with the dead animals draped across their shoulders. I imagined them jetting off to foreign lands and seeing the world outside Oxnard. It seemed a distant dream of a life that would never be mine.
The thing is, I had to live that and all the other times that weren’t so much fun — in order to get to this place where I am today. So I am thankful for all the curses and tears and fears of my last 60 years that brought me to this day sitting at this cockpit table watching the sunlight play on the boats anchored out in the lagoon, listening to the laughter of these beautiful children and preparing to go watch the round island race from the terrace of an apartment high on the side of the island.
Each time I feel that shiver go through me, that feeling that I am so lucky to be here, I whisper, “Thank you.”
ChristineShare on Facebook