If You Could Only Feel It

Dearest Rachel –

I’ve been wondering around top side for the past hour or so. To be honest, I stopped for about half of that hour, as they were showing a movie above the pool; one about souls (in fact, I think that was the film’s name), and one’s trying to get back to earth rather than moving on into the Great Beyond. What I saw was pretty cute, actually, but it’s just another reminder, if I think to hard about it.

There’s a lot to tell you about yet, but I should probably save some of it for the other sea days. Still, there’s at least one thing that bears mentioning…

…you could feel the rocking, tonight.

Remember how I mentioned that it had started to rain earlier this afternoon? Well, according to the captain, there was supposed to be a considerable amount of wind thereafter. As he put it, “you’re going to know you’re at sea.”

And he wasn’t lying. It’s almost difficult to walk around, as the ship sways back and forth. I don’t think it’s a case of me not having my ‘sea legs,’ it’s much more perceptible than that. And it’s something you always wanted to experience, but never did, at least not to your satisfaction.

It’s why you wanted to go on a transatlantic trip someday, and it’s one of the few bucket list items you never got a chance at. But tonight, while we’re not exactly in the open ocean, we definitely can feel we’re at sea, like the captain said. And I wish you were here to feel it.

There’ve been a few other people I’ve met in elevators this evening who have commented about it; I’ve told them they’ll appreciate it when they try to sleep, and it rocks them like they’re in a cradle. But you won’t feel it. And I’m so sorry about that, sorry enough that it doesn’t carry that soothing vibe for me that it should. All it does for now is remind me that you’re not here to experience it.

Maybe I’ll be able to change my tune when I actually go to bed; somewhere along the way I’m sure I’ll be too tired to resist it, and probably not too long from now. Even if I didn’t, I should be trying to get to bed soon enough; we’ll be at Coco Cay early tomorrow morning, and we lose an hour somewhere along the way thanks to daylight savings time, so I need to get all the sleep I can.

I should mention one other thing about this evening: I broke down and got myself a spa treatment. Nothing too fancy, you understand; in fact, it was nothing more than my first haircut this year. I forgot to take care of it before leaving Chicago, and didn’t think to go to one of the boutiques in the strip mall at Aventura, either. So it probably ran twice as much as it would’ve at home, but it needed to be done.

One problem with undergoing the procedure, however, is that the hairdresser was compelled to make a little bit of small talk. Now, I understand I need to get used to making small talk; it’s the only way you can move onto big talk at some point (not that I was thinking along those lines with her, mind you). The problem with small talk is that the topic of conversation eventually turns to family, and where mine is. And naturally, I feel compelled to answer, despite myself. Am I going to have to be enduring this for the rest of my life? I’m not looking forward to it.

I have to admit, though: that issue aside, I’m pleased with the results, especially since the ‘before’ picture was after doing my best to tame that windswept mess – whereas, in the ‘after’ picture, I didn’t have to. Granted, the girl couldn’t do anything about that circle in the back, but at this point, you can’t expect miracles, after all.

Anyway, it’s getting late, and while I can still remember your wish with every roll and pitch, I’m starting to grow a little tired. It’s been a pretty full day, with a lot of walking and less eating than you’d expect of me aboard a cruise ship. We’ll see if I can hew to that (speaking of expecting miracles), just on a day-by-day basis.

So, honey, until tomorrow, keep an eye out for me.

Published by randy@letters-to-rachel.memorial

I am Rachel's husband. Was. I'm still trying to deal with it. I probably always will be.

One thought on “If You Could Only Feel It

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: